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.L'ME  1 

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"GONE    TO    EARTH" 


Mary   Webb. 

The    N-Y.    "Sun  "This 

is   une   of  the  greatest   novel 

modern    times.' 






One  of  the  classics  of  the  war. 
Now     in     its     5th     edition.      $1.90. 

"BEFORE     THE     WIND" 
Janet  Laing. 

Miss  Laing's  creations  are  skil- 
fully handled  and  amusing.  $1  50. 



Dolf   Wyllarde. 

This    author    needs    no    intro. 
duction.     $1.50. 

W.  J.   Dawson. 

The  author  of  "Shenstone" 
lives  up  to  his  reputation  in  this 
delightful   book.     $1.50. 

Henri    Barbusse. 

novel    of 

Still   the   outstandin 
the  war.     $1.50. 


We  have  such  a  wide  range  of 
exclusive  and  artistic  Juveniles. 
that  we  find  it  impossible  to  list 
them  here.  Ask  for  JUVENILE 



"and  OTHER  POEMS." 


Salomon  de  la   Selva. 


snd   OTHER    POEMS." 


Thomas    Walsh. 

Francis  Hackett 

A    truly    wonderful    volume    of 
tys.     $2.00. 


end  NEW  POEMS" 
Alfred    Gordon 
(Of  Montreal). 
Mr.     Gordon's      Work      is 
known  to  lovers  of  poetry. 

"SPUNYARN    and 

Norah    M.    Holland. 
In   th  •  opinion  of  a  most   fear- 
less critic  Canada's  Greatest  Poet. 



L.   Lewisohn. 

A  rare  book  of  rare  value,  $1.50. 

"MESSINES    and    OTHER 



Emile  Cammaerts. 

The      great      Belgian      singer. 


Si  nd  for  our  CATALOGUE  of 
BOOKS  of  POETRY  selected 
from  many  lists,  and  all  of 
which   we   will   carry    in   stock. 




William  H.  Moore. 

Published   in   September. 

Tin'  most  talked  of  and  Heat- 
edly discussed  Canadian  1 k  of 

Modern   Times. 

Third  large  edition  already  ne- 
cessary.    $1.75. 



Dr.   Frank  Crane. 

A  book  of  good  cheer  and  corn- 
fur!  by  a  well-known  and  popu- 
lar  author.     $1  25. 


Francis   Grierson. 
wf?U  Author  of   "The  Invincible  Al- 

11.25.      lianee."    etc.      $1.25. 

Edward   Jenks. 
A    comprehensive    view    of    the 
system    under  which   the   Empire 
iverned.   expresed   in    simple, 
untechnical  language.     $2.00 



Edited  by 

S.  J.  Cbapman,  C.B.E. 





Georges  Duhamel. 

With  "Under  Fire"  this  great 
French  work  will  live  for  all 
time.     $1.50. 


740    Titles— Cloth    60c. 
Leather    and    Pigskin,    $1.25. 

Dickens-Scott — in  fact  every 
title  that  you  would  like  to  se- 
lect  for   your  friends. 

100  Titles. 

A  selection  of  the  best  MOD. 

Send  for  our  CATALOGUE  of 
these  LIBRARIES.  Over  20,000.. 
000   sold   to   date. 

ll»ll«H>ll|      >      ■      ■      t* 


J.    M.    DENT  &    SONS,    LTD.,   Publishers 

2fc  and  27  Melinda  Street  -  -  -  TORONTO 


A  Quarterly  devoted  to  Literature,  the  Library  and  the  Printed    Hook. 

B.  K.  SANDWELL,        -        -        -        EDITOR 


J.  A.  DALE,  Professor  of  Education,  McGill  University 
H.  T.  FALK,  Lecturer    on  Social  Service,  McGill  Uni- 

HON.  W.  S.  FIELDING,  Editor  Canadian  Journal  of 
Commerce,  formerly  Finance  Minister  of  the  Domin- 
ion of  Canada. 

J.  M.  GIBBON,  General  Advertising  Agent  C.  P.  R., 
formerly  editor  of  "Black  and  White." 

I.  J.  HARPELL,  President  of  the  Industrial  &  Educa- 
tional Press. 

R.  E.  HORE,  Editor  Canadian  Mining  Journal. 
F.  S.  KEITH,  Secretary  of  the  Canadian  Society  of  Civil 

W.    LOCIIHEAD,    Professor  of   Biology,   Agricultural 
Dept.,  McGill  University. 

GEORGE  H.  LOCKE,  Chiel  Librarian,  Toronto  Public 


0.  D.  SKELTON,  Professor  of  Political  Science,  Queens 

A.    STANSFIELD,    Professor    of    Metallurgy,    McGill 
University,  Editor  "Iron  and  Steel. 

J.  N.  STEPHENSON,  Editor  Pulp  and  Paper  Maga 
W.  LAIRD  TURNER,  Editor  Canadian  Textile  Journal. 
CAPTAIN  F.  WILLIAM  WALLACE,  Editor  Canadian 


THE  CANADIAN  BOOKMAN  is  published  quarterly  by  the  Industrial  &  Educational  Press  Limited,  at  the  Garden 

City  Press,  Ste.  Anne  de  Bellevue,  P.Q. 

J.  J.  HARPELL,  President  and  Managing  Director 
A.  LONGWELL,  Vice-President 

Copyright,  Canada,  1918,  by  the  Industrial  &  Educational  Press,  Limited 

A.  S.  CHRISTIE,  Eastern  Manager, 

B  30  Board  of  Trade  Building,  Montreal 
H.  W.  THOMPSON,  Western  Manager. 

614  C.P.R.  BuiMing,  Toronto 


Ste.  Anne  de  Bellevue,  P.Q.,  January,  1919 

$1.50  PER  ANNUM 


The  Canadian  Bookman — A   Salutation 1 

Bookishness  in   Canada 2 

The  Need  for  More  Bookishness   in   Canada 4 

A  Symposium  by  President  E.  W.  Beatty  (Canadian  Pacific  Railway);  Sir  William 
Peterson;  the  Bishop  of  Ontario;  Sir  Robert  Falconer;  the  Dean  of  Halifax;  the 
Premier  ol  Ontario;  the  Principal  of  Upper  Canada  College;  The  Provincial  Treasurer 
of  Ontario;  Professor  E.  F.  Scott  (Queen's  University);  the  Bishop  of  Montreal;  Pro- 
fessor S.  H.  Hooke  (Victoria  College,  Toronto);  the  Principal  of  University  College, 

The  Book  Agent,  by  Stephen  Leacock IT 

Why   Neglect   Early   Canadians?   by   R.    H.   Hathaway 20 

Some  Canadian  Illustrators,  by  St.  George  Burgoyne 21 

Rhymes  With  and  Without  Reason,  by  J.   M.  Gibbon 26 

Francis  Grierson,   by  Jean  S.  Foley 35 

Potted  Prejudices,   by  Warwick  Chipman 40 

Revery  of  a  Bookish   Librarian,   by   George  H.  Locke 42 

Out  of  the  Storm:   Poem,  by  .).  A.  Dale 43 

Clio   in   Canada,   1918:    A   Review   of   Historical    Publications   of   the    Year   by    \V.    S. 

Wallace 4  4 

A   Desirable   Compromise:    Verse,   by   J.   E.    Middleton 4C 

For   War   Doubts:    Verse,    by   W.    D.    Lighthall 46 

Canadian  Publishers  and  War  Propaganda,   by   Hugh   S.   Eayrs 47 

H.   G.   Wells   Again   Incandescent    ("Joan   and   Peter")    by   J.   A.   Dale 49 

.1.   M.  Gibbon's  "Drums  Afar":    A   Review 51 

Fisheries  of  the  North  Sea,  by  F.  William  Wallace :,.! 

/  Some  Recent  Canadian   Verse,  by  J.  A.  Dale 53 

Twentieth  Century  Librarianship,  by  Mary  J.  L.  Black 58 

Library   Notes 59 

J.  T.  M.  Anderson's  "The  Education  of  the  New  Canadian,"   by   H.   T.   Falk 62 

Notre  Dame  de  Montreal:   Poem  by   Margaret  Hilda  Wise 63 

Mining  Books 65 

Canada's  First  Publishing  House   (the  Methodist  Book   Room),   by   E.  .1.  Moore  ....  71 

Books    on    Metallurgy,    by    Alfred    Stansfield 74 

Labour  and  Capital  After  the  War,   by   Howard   T.   Falk 76 

A  Lesson  for  Canadian  Cities,  by  W.  D.   Lighthall 7, 

Making  Farmers  Into  "Big  Business,"  by  W.  Lochhead 78 

"This  Way  Out  of  Chaos,"  by  O.  D.  Skelton 80 

Among  the  Booksellers 83 

CANADIAN  BOOKMAN  January,  1919. 






Author  of  "Hearts  and  Faces." 
Third  Canadian  Edition.  Cloth.     $1.50,  Net. 

,  i 

"Drums  Afar"  is  the  spiritual  pilgrimage  of  a 
young  English  Oxford  student  who  goes  over  the 
regular  course  and  learns  many  things  without 
realizing  iust  why  he  is  learning  them — among 
them,  how  to  love  an  American  girl  of  very  com- 
pelling personality  (the  most  vital  portrait  the  au- 
thor has  yet  done) — and  finally  grasps  the  meaning 
of  his  life  when  his  country  calls  to  him  at  the  out- 
break of  the  Great  War.  To  the  woman  the  vision 
comes  later;  and  the  very  poignant  situation  which 
arises  when  the  man  follows  his  duty  to  his  country 
and  himself  is  treated  with  great  dramatic  force  and 

Montreal  in  the  early  days  of  the  war  provides 
a  very  vivid  background  for  the  most  dramatic  pas- 
sages  of   the   love-story- 

B.  K.  SAND  WELL, 

In  The  Canadian  Magazine. 


S.  B.  GUNDY 

TORONTO,         -  CANADA 

January,  L919. 




Canadian  Bookman's  Bookmen 


Editor  of  the  "Canadian  Bookman.' 

A  brief  ton       Tll(.  ,.,|lt„,.s  .,„,|  rea(jera  ,,,  „,„..,  .,  ,„.m„i,. 

WOrd  by  Hie  cal  as  the  "Canadian  Bookman"  Bhould  bi 
on  a  footing  of  mutual  friendship  and  con- 
fidence. Such  a  footing  ca ily  be  estab- 
lished   by     ans    of     an    introduction;    and 

realizing  that  the  native  modesty  of  the 
species  will  effectually  prevent  the  Editoi 
and  t lie  Editorial  Committee  of  the  "Book 
man''  from  introducing  themselves,  the 
Publishers  are  herewith  taking  up  the 

Owing    i"    the    wide    variety    of    interests 
solved  by  the  "Canadian  Bookman,"  whi  ■ 
undertakes   to  acl    as   a   guide  to  the  litera 
t  »e  of  the  industries  as  well  as  of  the  arts, 
the    Editor   must   be  a   man  of  wide  reading 
and    experience.      Such    an    Editor    the    Pub- 
lishers   have    found    in    Mr.    B.    K.    Sandwell, 
who   since    1M0   has    been    Associate    Editor 
and   Editor  of  the  Financial  Times,  of  Mont- 
real,   who     is    a    Member     of    the    American 
Academy  of  Political  and  Social  Science,  who 
is   Lecturer   on    the    History   of   Commerce    iu 
Motrin    University   School   of   Commerce,   and 
Lecturer  on  Journalism  in  McGill  University 
Extension  Department,   and   who   moreover   in 
the   opinion   of   those   competent   to   judge   is 
one  of   the    best    read   men   in   Canada   today. 
Although      born    in    England,    Mr.     Sandwell 
came  with  his  father  to  Toronto   at  the   age 
of  11,  in  1888,  and  as  he  has  lived  in  Canada 
for  nearly  thirty  years  can  surely  be  claimed 
as    Canadian.      Educated     at    Upper    Canada 
College,    where    he    rose   to   be   head    of    the 

school,  he  proceeded  to  Toronto  University,  where  he  graduated  with  first  class 
honours  in  classics  in  1897.  After  three  years  of  journalistic  work  in  England. 
Mr.  Sandwell  joined  the  staff  of  the  Montreal  Herald,  where  he  served  for 
nine  consecutive  years,  chiefly  as  dramatic  and  literary  critic.  Tn  1910  he  as- 
sisted in  the  foundation  of  the  Financial  Times,  which  owes  its  success  in  no 
small  degree  to  his  brilliant  pen. 

A  frequent  contributor  to  Canadian  and  American  periodicals,  Mr.  Sandwell 's 
humour  has  also  penetrated  less  capitalistic  skins,  through  the  columns  of  the 
Canadian  Magazine,  World 's  Work,  University  Magazine,  etc.  Always  keenly 
interested  in  the  drama.  Mr.  Sandwell  was  one  of  the  judges  of  the  Earl  Grey 
Dramatic  Competition.  Add  to  those  qualifications  the  fact  that  he  is  an  ac- 
complished musician,  and  you  realize  that  the  Publishers  and  readers  of  the 
"Canadian  Bookman"  have  reason  to  congratulate  themselves  on  their  good 
fortune  in   securing  so  versatile  an  Editor. 

The  Publishers  feel  that  they  have  also  been  fortunate  in  enlisting  the  services 
of  a  very  strong  Editorial  Committee,  which  will  be  made  yet  stronger  as  occa- 
sion requires  by  the  addition  of  recognized  experts  upon  branches  of  technical 
and  specialist  literature  not  yet  represented.  The  complete  list  of  this  Com- 
mittee will  be  found  on  the  index  page,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  they  are  all 
men  who  combine  the  two  necessary  qualifications  of  a  first-class  knowledge 
of  their  subject  or  subjects,  and  a  thoroughly  practiced  hand  in  writing  about 
them.  Several  of  the  members  of  this  Committee,  however,  are  men  who  in  ad- 
dition to  their  specialist  qualifications,  are  well  known  throughout  Canada  for 
their  services  to  general  culture,  correct  thinking  and  spiritual  growth,  and 
who  have  welcomed  the  opportunity  to  perform  some  of  these  services  through 
the  columns  of  the  "Canadian  Bookman."  Foremost  among  these  is  Profes- 
sor J.  A.  Dale,  whose  co-operation  has  been  invaluable  in  the  production  of  the 
first  issue  of  this  magazine,  and  whose  absence  for  a  brief  period  upon  educa- 
tional work  among  the  Canadian  troops  during  the  term  of  demobilization  will 
not  prevent  him  from  making  his  personality  felt  in  the  "Bookman"  in  the 
coming  year.  Others  whose  presence  on  the  Committee  is  similarly  the  result 
of  a  deep  interest  in  the  progress  of  Canadian  thought  and  culture  are  the  Hon. 
W.  S.  Fielding,  formerly  Finance  Minister  of  Canada,  and  Dr.  George  H.  Locke, 
the  inspirational  Chief'  Librarian  of  the  City  of  Toronto,  and  the  Dominion's 
most    eloquent    apostle    of    Literature. 

With    smh    co-operation    as    this,    the    Publishers    are    launching    the    "Canadian 
Bookman"    upon    its    career    in    the    full    confidence    that    it    will    serve    a    useful 
and   will   therefore   achieve   a   deserved   success. 






January,  1919. 


The  New  Era 

The  first  issue  of  the  new  Canadian  Book- 
man appears  at  a  moment  which  happens  also 
to  mark  the  beginning  of  a  new  era  in  the  his- 
tory of  mankind,  and,  very  particularly,  in  the 
history  of  Canada.  That  this  is  so  is  not  by 
design.  The  date  of  this  first  issue  was  planned 
many  months  ago,  long  before  there  was  any 
hope  that  November,  1918,  would  see  the  col- 
lapse of  the  Teutonic  Alliance  and  the  com- 
mencement of  the  return  to  a  state  of  peace. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  wholly  a  coinci- 

The  world  at  large,  and  Canada  in  especial, 
during  the  generation  preceding  1914,  passed 
through  an  age  of  extreme  pre-occupation  in 
"practical"  affairs.  It  was  an  age  of  immense- 
ly rapid  development  of  material  wealth  and 
enlargement  of  man's  command  of  the  resources 
of  the  planet;  an  era  of  intense  competition  to 
obtain  the  benefit  of  those  resources;  an  era  of 
trust  in  those  resources  as  the  sufficient  foun- 
dation of  human  happiness.  This  era  came  to 
an  end  in  a  way  which,  we  now  see,  was  prob- 
ably the  only  way  in  which  it  could  end.  Its  in- 
tense competition,  and  the  pride  and  self-con- 
fidence which  it  bred  in  some  of  the  most  sue 
eessful  of  the  competitors  (and  this  does  not 
refer  exclusively  to  Germany,  for  while  Ger- 
many began  the  war,  many  other  nations  made 
the  war  possible — a  world  state-of-mind,  so  to 
speak,  was  its  begetter),  led  to  culminate  in  a 
four-year  struggle  in  which  absolute  force  was 
the  sole  decisive  factor  in  the  destinies  of  the 
world.  We  have  lived  through  that  terrible 
period.  We  have  seen  our  own  country  per- 
form its  full  share  in  that  conflict,  we  have 
learned  the  lessons  which  can  be  taught  only  by 
suffering  and  sacrifice  glorified  by  a  noble 
cause,  and  we  have  seen  the  conflict  end,  as 
any  long-drawn-out  conflict  of  the  kind  must 
end.  in  the  victory  of  the  side  whose  force  was 
backed  up  by  the  moral  strength  of  a  high  and 
noble  principle.  And  we  stand  today,  along 
with  the  other  great  nations  of  a  purified  world, 
at  the  beginning  of  a  new  era  which  will  cer- 
tainly be  vastly  different  from  both  the  era  of 
foi and  the  era  of  materialism  which  preced- 
ed it. 

It  is  too  early  yet  to  forecast  the  character  of 
this  new  era  with  any  precision.  But  it  does 
not  seem  too  early  to  be  confident  that  it  will 
be  in  one  respect  an  era  of  ideas,  an  era  of  pro- 

found and  general  thought,  not  about  the  pure- 
ly material  problems  which  preoccupied  us  un- 
til four  years  ago,  but  about  the  more  im- 
portant things  —  the  nature  and  purpose  of 
life,  the  relation  of  man  to  his  fellows  and  to 
his  Creator,  the  meaning  of  the  human  race  and 
its  slow  and  painful  but  evident  upward  pro- 
gress, the  contribution  of  each  nation  and  each 
individual  to  the  sum  total  of  the  achievement 
of  humanity. 

And  if  this  era  is  to  be  an  era  of  ideas,  it  fol- 
lows that  it  is  to  be  also  an  era  of  books,  since 
books  are  the  one  great  medium  through  which 
ideas  of  communicated  and  perpetuated.  Not 
the  purely  material  books  which  have  over- 
occupied  our  attention  for  more  than  a  genera- 
tion —  though  science  will  obviously  have  still 
its  honoured  part  to  play.  Not,  certainly,  the 
merely  sentimental,  narcotic,  idea-less  books, 
miscalled  books  of  the  imagination,  which  have 
formed  the  literary  food  of  too  many  of  us  who 
did  not  wish  to  be  bothered  with  ideas.  But 
real  books,  containing  real  ideas  about  the  im- 
portant things  of  life,  whether  expressed  in  the 
form  of  fiction,  or  of  religion,  or  of  philosophy, 
or  of  poetry,  or  of  history,  or  of  science  in  the 
broader  and  deeper  sense  of  the  word.  It  was 
this  conviction,  of  the  coming  of  an  era  of  ideas 
and  of  books,  which  was  strong  in  the  minds  of 
the  founders  of  the  new  Canadian  Bookman  and 
which  led  them  to  select  the  present  as  an  ap- 
propriate time  even  though  when  they  selected 
it  it  seemed  unlikely  to  be  a  time  of  peace,  for 
the  establishment  of  a  purely  Canadian  perio- 
dical which  should  deal  with  them,  not  as  mass- 
es of  paper  and  binding,  nor  as  so  many  square 
inches  of  type,  nor  as  speculative  adventures  in 
search  for  "best-sellers",  but  as  the  vessels  for 
the  containing  and  the  imparting  of  ideas  — 
and  of  ideas  suited  to  the  uses  of  Canadian 
readers.  In  this  sense,  the  appearance  of  the 
Canadian  Bookman  at  the  very  dawn  of  this 
new  era  is  not  a  mere  coincidence.  The  Cana- 
dian Bookman  is  itself  one  of  the  phenomena  of 
the  new  era. 

Evidences  of  the  dawn  of  such  an  era  as  we 
have  described  are  plentiful  enough.  We  at 
home  in  Canada  can  see  them  in  the  character 
of  the  books  on  the  front  shelves  of  our  book 
stores,  and  in  the  drawing-rooms  and  studies 
of  our  friends.  We  can  see  them  in  the  con- 
versation of  the  social  gatherings,  in  the  fre- 
quentation  of  our  public  libraries,  in  the  growth 

January,  191£ 


■  ml  new  vigour  of  cultural  societies,  in  the  ser 
mons    in    our   churches,    the    teaching    in    our 
schools.       And  ye1   we  ser  only  a   fraction  of 

them.  The  best  of  our  youth  is  still  far  from 
us,  in  Prance  and  Flanders  or  in  training 
camps  and  hospitals  on  the  road  to  and  from 
the  battle-fields,  and  it  is  their  mentality  which 
will  make  the  mentality  of  Canada  when  they 
return  to  us.  And  if  all  accounts  agree,  the 
life  of  camp  and  battle-field  has  produced 
in  their  minds  such  a  ferment  of  ideas  and 
curiosities,  such  an  interest  in  the  things  of  the 
spirit ;  such  an  eager  open-mindedncss,  as  could 
never  have  been  produced  in  fifty  years  of 
peace.  Mr.  J.  M.  Dent,  the  noble  English  pub- 
lisher whose  cheap  editions  of  real  books  have 
been  among  the  greatest  gifts  that  modern 
science  has  made  to  mankind,  was  in  this  coun- 
try recently,  and  reported  that  army  life  had 
produced,  both  among  British  and  Canadian 
troops,  an  immense  new  interest  in  literature 
and  ideas.  Nor  is  this  surprising,  contrary 
it  may  be  to  past  experience  of  war.  This  war 
has  been  fought,  for  the  first  time  in  history, 
by  absolutely  democratic  armies,  in  which  rich 
and  poor,  educated  and  uneducated,  cultured 
and  uncultured,  have  fought  side  by  side  in  the 
iron-closed  brotherhood  of  common  peril.  Each 
class  has  learned  to  understand  and  value  the 
other,  in  a  way  that  our  peace-time  conditions 
have  never  allowed.  The  man  who  knew  noth- 
ing of  books,  and  in  old  cared  nothing  for  them, 
has  seen  with  his  own  eyes,  in  the  person  of  his 
own    chum,    what    books    and    a    knowledge    of 

books   may   mean    to  the  spirit    of   man    in   hour 

■  ■I    luffering  and  peri!      And  he  who  has 
this  will  never  be  contemptuous  of  books  again, 

nor  his  children  after  him. 

To  this  new  interest  in  ideas,  and  in  the 
books  which  convey  them,  there  is  added  in  the 
Case  of  (  'a i i.idians  a  neu  national  self-conscious 
ness.  a  new  demand  that  idea-  he  judged  not  by 
the  standards  of  any  other  nation,  however 
closely  allied  by  kinship  or  economic  circum- 
stance, but  by  the  standards  of  our  own  coun- 
try; a  new  output  of  ideas  by  Canadians  them- 
selves, and  a  new  belief  in  those  ideas  as  being 
probably  the  best  expression  of  Canadian  re- 
quirements, the  best  solution  of  Canadian  prob- 
lems and  a  consequent  new  demand  for  ve- 
hicles of  criticism  and  discussion  concerning 
this  purely  Canadian  output. 

At  such  a  moment,  it  seems  to  us,  the  under- 
taking of  the  new  Canadian  Bookman  is 
justified.  Like  most  periodicals  in  the  hour  of 
birth,  it  is  not  likely  that  it  realises  in  its  first 
issue,  oi' will  realise  perhaps  for  many  issues  to 
come,  all  the  ideals  of  its  projectors.  Some  of 
them  cannot  be  realised  without  the  assistance 
of  a  considerable  body  of  readers,  and  of  more 
friends  that  can  be  counted  on  by  any  publica- 
tion before  its  first  appearance  —  albeit  the 
Canadian  Bookman  has  already  received  such 
indications  of  friendship  and  kindly  co-opera- 
tion from  Canadians  in  all  walks  of  life  and  all 
parts  of  Canada  and  elsewhere  as  to  prove  that 
there  is  a  widespread  desire  for  the  service 
which  we  aim  to  render. 


January.  1910. 

Bookishness  in  Canada 

There  is  too  little  Bookishness  in  Canada. 

We  make  no  apology  for  using  the  word  Bookishness  in  a 
favorable  sense,  to  describe  something  which  we  believe  any 
nation  needs,  in  due  proportion,  for  its  proper  intellectual  and 
spiritual  development.  Canadians  have  too  long  contrasted 
Bookishness  and  Actuality,  Bookishness  and  Experience,  even 
Bookishness  and  Business,  as  if  one  alone  of  the  two  terms  had 
any  reference  to  what  is  real  and  important  in  life.  It  is  time  to 
recall  that  there  is  a  knowledge,  and  a  highly  valuable  know- 
ledge, which  can  only  be  derived  from  books,  just  as  there  is  also 
a  knowledge  which  can  only  be  derived  from  experiences  and 
personal  contacts,  and  that  the  wise  man  is  he  who  blends  these 
two  knowledges  in  due  proportions,  not  the  man  who  wholly  and 
contemptuously  neglects  either  of  them. 

There  is  too  little  Bookishness  in  Canada.  The  Printed 
Book  is  too  small  a  factor  in  the  life  of  the  Canadian  people. 
There  are  many  communities,  of  no  higher  natural  intelligence 
and  no  sounder  average  education  than  our  own,  in  which  books 
exert  a  more  active  and  widespread  influence,  and  impart  a 
broader  culture,  than  they  do  in  Canada. 

Into  the  profounder  reasons  for  this  insufficient  valuation 
of  the  Printed  Book  we  need  not  enter.  They  are  associated 
with  the  youth  of  the  country,  its  preoccupation  with  material 
problems,  its  astoundingly  rapid  development  of  wealth.  They 
are  remedying  themselves  with  the  passing  of  time. 

But  there  are  a  number  of  contributory  causes  for  our  lack 
of  Bookishness.  which  can  and  must  be  combatted  before  the 
Book  can  be  raised  to  its  proper  place  in  Canadian  life  and  Cana- 
dian esteem:  and  it  will  be  the  business  of  the  Canadian  Book- 
man to  examine  into  these  causes  and  to  do  all  in  its  power  to 
aid  in  combatting  them. 

Foremost  among  them  is  the  extraordinary  competition  to 
which  the  Book  has  lately  been  subjected  by  other  methods  of 
appealing  to  the  human  mind  or  senses  and  of  occupying  the 
human  attention. 

The  Book  is  a  very  ancient  invention  and  has  not.  except  in 
respect  of  cheapness  of  production,  been  much  improved  in  the 
last  few  generations.  But  three  very  recent  inventions,  two  in 
the  realm  of  music  and  one  in  the  realm  of  pictorial  representa- 
tion, have  supplied  it  with  new  and  powerful  competitors.  The 
player-piano,  the  phonograph  and  the  moving  picture  are  keen 
rivals  of  the  Book  through  the  demands  which  they  make  upon 
the  time  of  the  public. 

The  important  feature  of  this  rivalry  is  its  intense  agres- 
siveness.  It  employs  all  the  resources  of  a  high-pressure  sales- 
manship campaign  of  the  most  modern  type.  Incredible  sums  of 
money  have  been  and  are  being  spent  to  popularize  these  three 

January,  1919.  CANADIAN   BOO  KM  Ah 

mechanical  contrivances  throughoul  the  civilized  world.  The 
taste  for  books  is  Left,  like  the  wild  mustard  seed,  to  propagate 
itself  as  and  where  it  will,  while  the  taste  for  "movies"  and  "re 

cords"  is  assiduously  cultivated  by  thousands  of  experl  publi- 
cists with  tools  costing  millons  of  dollars. 

We  have  no  protest  to  voice  againsl  these  invent  ions  or 
against  their  campaign  of  popularization.  All  three  of  them 
have  distinct  cultural  value  and  a  great  capacity  for  affording 
pleasure.  Within  proper  limits,  in  due  proportions,  all  three  are 
good  thing's  for  the  human  race.  It  is  only  when  they  begin  to 
drive  out  other  good  things  that  there  begins  to  he  need,  not  for 
protest,  but  for  counter  measures.  It  is  only  when  they  seem 
likely  to  leave  no  room  for  the  Book  in  the  homes  and  hearts  of 
many  Canadians,  that  the  true  friend  of  the  Book  must  bestir 
himself  and  seek  to  defend  the  Book's  proper  territory.  That 
time,  in  Canada,  seems  to  us  to  have  come. 

The  Book  is  a  singularly  composite  product.  To  place  the 
completed  article  in  the  hands  of  the  consumer  requires  the 
services  of  the  author,  for  the  making  of  it;  the  publisher,  for 
the  physical  production  of  it;  the  bookseller  and  the  Library,  for 
the  distribution  of  it.  Within  the  world  of  books,  the  interests 
of  all  these  differing  classes  are  diverse  and,  in  some  respects, 
conflicting.  When  it  is  a  question  of  defending  the  Book  itself 
against  its  rivals,  of  advancing  it  in  the  affection  and  esteem  of 
the  public,  their  interests  are  indistinguishably  one. 

It  is  these  common  interests,  the  interests  of  the  Book  itself, 
which  the  Canadian  Bookman  is  designed  and  pledged  to 

The  value  of  technical  and  specialist  periodicals  is  too  well 
recognized  at  this  date  to  need  explanation  here.  They  perform 
many  functions,  not  the  least  of  which  consists  in  keeping  the 
common  interests  of  a  trade,  a  profession,  a  social  class  or  a 
group  of  whatever  kind,  constantly  before  the  members  and 
the  community  at  large;  in  reconciling  the  minor  differences  be- 
tween members  of  the  group;  and  in  bringing  the  best  intelli- 
gence of  the  group  to  bear  uoon  the  improvement  of  the  erronn's 
work  and  position.  The  book  business  in  Canada  (including  in 
that  term  everybody  from  the  author  to  the  reader,  in  virtue  of 
their  supreme  community  of  interest)  has  suffered  seriously  in 
the  nast  from  the  lack  of  such  an  organ.  The  Canadian*  Bookman 
is  intended  to  supply  it. 

Our  desire  is.  bv  iust  and  informed  criticism,  by  constant 
voicing  of  the  claims  of  literature,  by  maintaining  a  forum  for 
the  discussion  of  all  bookish  matters,  by  bringing  the  producers 
and  consumers  of  the  Book  into  a  move  sympathetic  and  under- 
standing relation,  to  promote  Bookislmess  in  Canada,  to  cause 
two  books  to  be  read  whew  one  wns  skimmed  before  (and  those 
two  to  be  better  books  and  more  Canadian  books  than  was  the 
one),  and  so  to  foster  Canadian  authorshin,  Canadian  publish- 
ing, and  Canadian  reading  In  so  domg,  we  do  not  doubt  to  be 
serving  in  the  making  and  strengthening  of  a  Canadian  nation. 


January,  l'Jl'J. 

The  Need  of  More  Bookishness 

in  Canada 


Contributed  by  twelve  of  the  Leaders  of  Canadian  Business, 
Education,  Religion,  Government,  Literature 
and  Public  Life 


Books  and  the  Intense  Life 

By  E.  W.  Beatty,  K.C.,  President 
of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway 

■|^N|^M"l^<t  -#-»..#"•.*•«•«•* 

r  N  the  days  of  Methusaleh,  the  chief  end  of 
1  mail  was  to  live  a  long  life.  To-day  it  is 
not  the  length,  but  the  intensity  of  the  life  that 
counts,  the  wise  man  crowding  all  he  can  into 
every  minute.  There  are  different  ways  of  in- 
creasing intensity  of  life  — for  instance,  the 
way  of  the  "mixer"  who  from  his  social  ac- 
quaintances picks  up  information  and  experi- 
ence, much  of  which  may  be  of  practical  use  to 
him,  and  all  of  which  makes  him  a  more  inter- 
esting human  being.  His  life  has  become  fuller 
through  his  conversation.  The  reader  of  good 
books  might  be  called  an  ••intellectual  mixer" 
who  converses  through  the  printed  page  with 
minds  often  greater  than  his  own.  If  he  reads 
wisely  and  assimilates  what  he  reads,  his  intel- 
lectual life  is  so  much  more  intense,  and  pro- 
vided that  he  does  not  become  merely  bookish, 
so  much  better  a  citizen  he  becomes. 

The  greatest  mistake  a  business  man  can 
make  is  to  confine  his  interest  only  to  his  of- 
fice. He  loses  perspective  and  thinks  of  the 
world  as  revolving  round  his  business,  although 
that  in  reality  is  but  a  speck  in  the  universe. 
Instead  of  being,  as  he  fancies,  "ou  the  job,"  he 
lives  in  a  mentally  isolated  village  off  the  track 
and  out  of  touch  with  the  intellectual  traffic 
of  the  world,  which  uses  the  book  as  its  chief 
means  of  communication. 

If  the  policy  of  the  Canadian  Bookman  is  to 
act  as  a  guide  to  current  literature,  particular- 
ly such  literature  as  has  a  bearing  upon  Can- 
adian life  and  good  citizenship,  it  should  fill 
a  long  felt  want  in  our  periodical  publications. 
And  if  the  Canadian  Bookman  should  undertake 

as  part  of  its  programme  a  propaganda  to  es- 
tablish libraries,  however  small,  in  every  com- 
munity in  Canada,  that  alone  would  justify  its 
existence.  In  these  days  of  cheap  reprints  of 
standard  authors,  it  is  astonishing  how  many 
worth-while  books  can  be  purchased  for  a  hun- 
dred or  even  fifty  dollars.  If  the  Canadian 
Bookman  were  to  publish  a  list  of  recommended 
books  for  the  nucleus  of  a  library  in  a  small 
Canadian  community,  together  with  practical 
suggestions  as  to  how  funds  should  be  raised, 
how  the  library  should  be  managed  and  how 
reading  circles  are  best  run,  it  would  give  im- 
petus to  a  movement  which  would  be  of  im- 
mense value  to  Canadian  citizenship.  Excellent 
work  is  done  no  doubt  in  small  communities  by 
the  existing  travelling  libraries,  but  the  travel- 
ling library  has  too  much  of  a  transient  char- 
acter, and  no  Canadian  community,  however 
small,  should  rest  content  till  it  has  a  collection 
of  good  books  which  it  can  call  its  own. 

_»..#.  .«..#..  •..«..  •-••... 


The  Appetite  for  Books 

By  Sir  William  Peterson,  K.C.M.G., 
Principal  of  McGill  Unieersity 



To  the  Editor : 

I  AM  quite  disposed  to  agree  with  what  you 
propose  to  say  in  the  first  issue  of  the  .new 
Canadian  Bookman — a  periodical  to  which  we 
must  wish  all  possible  success.  There  are  a  good 
many  people  who,  to  use  your  own  words,  "read 
too  few  books,  and  those  few  not  well  selected, 
own  far  too  few  books  (here  I  am  sure  you  will 
have  the  booksellers  with  you!)  and  attach  too 
little  importance  to  books  generally." 

Of  course,  there  is  always    the    other     side. 

January.  L919. 

r  \\   I/)/  |  \     r.ooh  1/  LA 

"Bookishness,"  unrelieved  and  unadorned,  is 
nut  an  enviable  quality.  I  have  seen  manj  read 
crs  in  the  British  Museum,  Eor  instance,  whose 
external  appearance  proclaimed  thai  they  were 
unduly  "bookish."  So  far  as  it  implies  a  want 
of  interest  in  things  practical,  the  epithet  is 
not  a  complimentary  our,  anil  general!]  speak- 
ing it  is  not  so  intended.  It  is  like  the  other 
Word  "academic,"  which  is  always  meant  as  a 
reproach.  I  have  even  known  many  professors 
who  would  not  care  to  he  called  either  "book- 
ish" or  "academic"  They  would  not  want  to 
have  it  thought  that  they  are  blind  to  the  world 
of  men  and  things  outside  of  hooks.  But  the 
fact  that  reading  is  sometimes  overdone  should 
not  be  used  to  cover  a  deficiency  in  literary 
and  intellectual  interest.  Some  people  do  not 
read  enough.  Look  over  the  hooks  in  any  house, 
and  you  will  soon  have  an  approximate  estimate 
of  the  owner's  tastes  and  sympathies.  "By  their 
books  ye  shall  know  them!"  Some  are  quite 
frank  about  it.  They  do  not  believe  in  books 
overmuch:  they  are  men  of  affairs.  And  then 
is  always  the  housekeeper,  to  whom  "a  hie'  booK 
is  a  big  nuisance  !  " 

I  must  not  speak  disrespectfully  of  journal- 
ism. A  great  deal  of  the  best  literature  was  pro- 
duced originally  in  newspaper  form.  But  there 
are  a  good  many  people  who  seem  to  read  no- 
thing but  newspapers.  And  when  you  sec  a 
housefather  going  home  in  the  end  of  the  week 
with  his  pockets  bulging  out  with  Sunday  edi- 
tions, you  may  be  sure  he  will  read  nothing  else 
when  he  is  done  with  them.  He  will  want  the 
rest  of  the  week  to  recover  from  his  orgy !  We 
have  all  been  faithful  students  of  the  daily  pa- 
per for  the  last  four  years,  and  the  newspaper 
proprietors,  at  least,  have  no  right  to  complain. 
But  when  the  war  is  over,  we  shall  have  to  "go 
back  to  our  muttons!"  We  shall  have  to  find 
a  substitute  for  the  great  drama  which  has 
been  unfolded  before  our  eyes  from  day  to  day 
in  the  newspaper  press.  We  shall  have  to  con- 
tent ourselves  with  the  ordinary  epic  of  life. 

It  is  here,  I  think,  that  your  pica  will  come 
in  for  more  and  better  reading.  I  don't  want 
to  speak  as  if  I  believed  that  people  should  al- 
ways have  in  hand  a  great  classic,  or  an  epoch- 
making  book  of  any  kind,  past  or  present.  The 
man  who  would  make  a  boast  of  such  a  habit 
might  fairly  be  suspected  of  intellectual  insin- 
cerity. But  with  the  excellent  reprints  that  are 
now  so  easily  obtainable,  there  is  very  little  ex- 
cuse for  not  having  some  degree  of  touch  with 
what  is  best  in  literature.  A  man  never  knows 
till  he  tries  how  much  he  can  do  in  this  way  to 
extend  the  range  of  his  interests  and  to  widen 
his  intellectual  horizon.  I  know  a  Travelling 
Library  Department  where    volumes    of    biog- 

raphy, adventure,  sciei and    the    like     are 

spread  111  generous  profusion  before  the  eye,  and 

are   being   eagerlj    looked   for  by   a   large  and 
ever-growing  constituency   throughout    the   l>" 

minion.    There  is  something  there  to  suit  every 

taste,    including    a     large    assortment     of    fiction 
and     other     recreative     literature.  With     such 

stores  to  draw  upon,   it    would   be  simply   in 
sible   Eor  any   one   not   to   read. 

What  is  the  use  of  teaching  children  the  me- 
chanical art  of  reading,  if  we  fail  to  instil  in 
their  minds  a  genuine  appetite  for  good  sound 
books,  and  if  we  neglect  as  is  so  often  the  ease 
where  the  opportunity  of  ownership  is  lacking 
— to  sec  that  the  appetite  has  something  to  feed 
on?  The  libraries  are  always  with  us  the 
shrines  where,  as  Bacon  finely  said,  "all  the  re- 
lies of  the  ancient  saints,  full  of  true  virtues, 
are  preserved  and  reposed."  When  Mr.  Bal- 
four was  in  .Montreal  in  the  summer  of  1917,  I 
reminded  him  that  it  was  thirty  years,  almost 
to  a  day,  since  I  had  sat  beside  him  on  the  plat 
form  from  which  he  delivered  his  St.  Andrews 
Rectorial  address  on  "The  Pleasures  of  Head 
ing."  In  one  way  or  another  we  can  all  have 
access  to  books.  And  those  of  us  who  under- 
stand the  value'  of  daily  reading  will  always 
have  on  hand  some  good  sound  book,  by  way  of 
supplement  to  the  daily  newspaper.  For  one 
thing,  the  type  and  format  will  usually  be  found 
to  be  much  more  attractive.  And  there  will  be 
in  addition  the  opportunity  of  improving  our 
taste,  of  gaining  a  further  interest  in  literature, 
and  of  acquiring  at  the  same  time  a  standard  of 
discrimination  between  good  and  bad.  Some  of 
use  may  possess  too  many  books;  they  are  apt 
to  be  an  encumbrance  in  an  otherwise  well-regu- 
lated household.  Others  have  too  few:  for  them 
the  sense  of  ownership  is  still  a  joy  in  prospect. 

.— ..«..t..i..»..«i.»..i  «  ■  i  •  '•" 

I    The  Need  for  Background     ! 

!  By  the  Rt.  Rev.  Edward  J.  Bidwell, 

i  Bishop  of  Ontario  I 

■■«..» .« '■■■»■.■"»-•-«•■■■■■■'»"•  •  ■'.»..«■■»"«  ••■•■«■  ».■■■.». »  »' 

Children  of  men!  not  that  your  age  excel 

In  pride  of  life  the  ages  of  your  sires, 

But  that  ye  think  clear,  feel  clear,  bear  fruit 

The  Friend  of  man  desires. — Mat  thru-  Arnold. 

BEFORE  [  was  called  to  more  purely  cleri- 
cal work  some  ten  years  ago,  I  had  been 
a  schoolmaster  for  upwards  of  twenty  years, 
first  in  England  and  afterwards  in  Canada. 
The  schools  in  which  I  worked  in  both  countries 


January,  1910. 

were  mainly  boarding  schools  of  a  good  class, 
the  pupils  of  which  came  from  well-to-do  and 
often  wealthy  homes.  I  have  frequently  been 
asked  how  in  my  opinion  Canadian  boys  of  this 
type  compare  with  English  boys.  It  is  an  in 
teresting  question,  but  this  is  not  the  place  to 
attempt  a  full  answer.  I  will  merely  note  one 
marked  difference  between  the  two,  which  is 
germane  to  the  subject  in  hand.  Speaking  gen- 
erally, the  English  boy  who  attended  the  class 
of  school  of  which  I  was  the  Head  would  come 
from  a  home  in  which  there  was  in  greater  or 
less  degree  some  atmosphere  of  culture  (in  the 
true,  not  the  German  sense),  or  where,  at  any 
rate,  books  and  "book  talk"-  were  common. 
.Most  of  them  had  more  or  less  acquired  the 
reading  habit,  and  had  some  familiarity,  even 
if  slight,  with  good  literature.  The  result  was 
that  one  had  some  sort  of  ;i  background  to  rely 
upon  in  one's  teaching  of  subjects  belonging 
to  the  literary  side  of  education.  Also,  that  de- 
partment seemed  often  to  attract  the  brightest 
minds  among  my  pupils. 

In  Canada,  I  found  conditions  very  differ- 
ent. There  were,  of  course,  marked  exceptions 
but  in  the  majority  of  cases  there  was  a  conspic- 
uous absence  among  the  boys  of  any  trace  of 
that  bent  towards  and  taste  for  literary  sub- 
jects which  a  congenial  home  atmosphere  pro- 
duces. They  clearly  had  not  lived  amongst 
books.  Allusions  to  even  the  widest-known  fig- 
ures in  such  classics  as  Scott,  Dickens,  or  Thack- 
eray were  Greek  to  them.  Their  reading,  if 
they  read  at  all,  was  apt  to  be  confined  to  the 
lightest  kind  of  ephemeral  magazine.  The  so- 
ealled  "practical"  subjects,  such  as  mathema- 
tics and  science,  were  the  most  popular.  These 
boys  were,  as  a  rule,  wonderfully  clever  with 
their  hands.  They  knew  all  about  guns,  en- 
gines, sailing-boats,  canoes,  and  so  forth.  But 
for  the  majority,  of  course  allowing  for  ex- 
ceptions, the  great  field  of  literature  had  no 

As  I  grew  more  familiar  with  Canadian  con- 
ditions, I  was  able  to  account  for  this  deficiency. 
In  a  country  like  ours,  where  there  is  such  an 
insistent  call  for  every  sort  of  energy  to  deal 
with  its  vast  and  undeveloped  resources,  the 
whole  atmosphere  tends  to  produce  the  kind  of 
mind  which  seeks  its  satisfaction  in  a  career 
which  is,  to  use  the  ordinary  phrase,  a  practi- 
cal one.  I  do  not  think  that  the  question  of 
making  money  has  much  to  do  with  this  ten- 
dency. I  have  known  boys  who  could  have  at- 
tained distinction  at  a  University  prefer  to  en- 
ter the  Royal  Naval  College,  or  the  Royal  Mili- 
tary College,  because  they  wished  to  get  at 
something  "practical"  with  as  little  delay  as 
possible.     In  the  same  way  with  those  who  chose 

business  careers.  It  was  the  idea  of  handling 
big  things  which  attracted  them.  It  became  clear 
that  this  was  the  atmosphere  they  had  breath- 
ed in  their  homes,  and  found  surrounding  them 
everywhere.  In  such  an  atmosphere,  books  be- 
come merely  the  means  of  acquiring  the  neces^ 
sary  technical  knowledge.  The  cult  of  litera- 
ture as  in  some  measure  at  any  rate  an  end  in 
itself  could  not  possibly  spring  from  such  soil. 
That  a  love  of  books  and  reading,  an  appre- 
ciation of  good  literature  of  every  kind,  should 
be  grafted  on  to  this  wonderful  practical  abil- 
ity is  much  to  be  wished.  The  solely  practical 
life  for  one  thing  is  apt  to  become  exceedingly 
sterile,  especially  when  age  diminishes  activi- 
ties. And  I  believe  it  to  be  generally  true  that 
the  man  with  the  widest  interests,  which  would 
certainly  include  literary  interests,  is  in  tin- 
long  run  more  useful  to  the  community  than 
the  one  idea'd  expert.  Moreover,  it  is  to  this 
lack  that  we  owe  much  of  the  crude  judgments 
which  disfigure  our  political  and  social  think- 
ing. It  is  natural  for  a  country  like  Canada  to 
look  to  the  future.  But  it  is  a  fatal  mistake 
to  suppose  that  the  wisdom  of  the  past  can  be 
ignored.  Canadian  life  would  be  both  fuller  and 
richer  if  our  people  read  more  and  'bought 
more.  My  present  position  involves  ■'.  gr-a.t 
deal  of  travelling.  I  converse  with  all  sorts 
and  conditions  of  men.  Only  once  have  I  en- 
joyed a  conversation  about  books,  and  that  was 
with  a  young  mail-clerk,  with  whom  I  discussed 
the  relative  merits  of  Tennyson  and  Browning. 
I  have  had  numbers  of  most  interesting  talks, 
tut  always  about  ••practical"  subjects.  [  am 
speaking,  of  course,  of  casual  crnversations  with 
strangers,  not  of  journeys  with  friends. 

Any  effort  to  make  of  us  a  nation  that  places 
a  higher  value  upon  books  and  all  that  they 
stand  for  deserves  unqualified  support.  Mat- 
Inew  Arnold's  lines  have  to  us  a  particular 
message.  We  are  rather  inclined  to  be  obsessed 
with  the  idea  of  making  our  age  excel  "in  pride 
of  life,"  of  exploiting  our  tremendous  material 
resources,  of  progressing  by  leaps  and  bound* 
in  our  knowledge  and  mastery  of  the  great 
forces  of  nature.  So  that  we  are  apt  to  forget 
that  man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone.  But  tins 
is  a  mistake  for  which,  if  we  persist  in  it,  we  are 
likely  to  have  to  pay  dearly  in  the  long  run. 
Especially  now,  with  all  the  difficult  problems 
that  face  us,  do  we  need  to  "think  clear,  feel 
clear,  bear  fruit  well."  A  great  step  towards 
this  consummation  would  be  a  complete  change 
of  heart  in  the  current  ideas  of  the  value  of 
books,  and  the  creation  of  an  atmosphere  favour- 
able to  the  appreciation  of  true  literature  in  our 
Canadian  homes.  That  is  the  purpose  with 
which    the    Canadian    Bookman    is    launched. 




(   i  \  i/'/  i  \    BOOKM  i  \ 

■   *   .   ■   . 

j  The  Reading  Public  in 

By  Sir  Robert  A.  Falconer,  K.C.M.G., 
President  of  the  University  of  Toront 

ONE  of  tin'  greatest  pleasures  that  a  reader 
has  in  visiting  London  or  Edinburgh  is 
to  stray  into  a  book-shop  and  browse  among 
the  latest  books.  To  read  reviews  of  books  in 
the  literary  columns  of  papers  and  magazines 
is  one  thing:;  to  pick  up  the  book,  glance 
through  the  table  of  contents  and  turn  over 
the  pages  is  something  quite  different.  K  •- 
views  do  make  one  buy  books,  but  for  one  that 
is  bought  through  a  review,  three  will  be  bought 
by  the  reader  who  casually  picks  from  the  coun- 
ter well  printed  volumes  or  a  new  publication 
of  which  he  has  not  heard.  A  book-loving  peo- 
ple, a  city  that  has  readers,  will  boast  of  its 
good  book-shops.  Is  it  the  shops  that  make  the 
readers,  or  the  readers  who  make  the  shops?  I 
fancy  that  it  is  the  readers  who  make  the  shops. 
If  so,  the  reason  that  we  have  so  few  good  book- 
shops in  Canadian  cities  is  that  we  have  so  few 
readers  who  are  interested  in  books.  As  a  Can- 
adian, I  regret  to  own  that  we  are  far  behind 
the  Old  Land  in  this  respect.  Possibly  on  the 
average  our  cities  have  as  many  good  readers  as 
those  of  the  United  States,  but  we  have  a  long 
way  to  go  before  we  get  within  sight  of  London 
or  Edinburgh.  Of  course,  by  readers,  I  do  not 
mean  newspaper  readers. 

We  have  some  very  creditable  journals,  and 
papers  are  read  widely  and  intelligently.  On 
the  whole,  the  readers  exercise  independent 
judgment,  I  should  imagine,  and  are  not  bound 
to  tiie  editorial  opinions  over-slavishly.  Our 
people  who  read  these  papers  are  not  more 
provincial  than  people  of  the  same  class  in  the 
Old  Country;  they  are  just  as  able  to  exercise 
robust  common-sense,  and  they  do  so.  But  it 
is  very  doubtful  whether  they  appreciate  the 
style  and  logical  development  of  an  editorial  as 
the  educated  Englishman  does,  though  they  will 
take  the  substance  out  of  it  quite  as  quickly. 
Now  the  genuine  book-lover  does  enjoy  style. 
Half  of  his  pleasure  comes  from  the  way  in 
which  the  idea  is  expressed ;  he  enjoys  the  art 
that  prevents  simple  things  from  becoming  the 
obvious,  that  finds  words  that  are  not  worn  like 
fingered  current  coin,  that  fits  the  thought  with 
the  exact  expression,  that  completes  and  rounds 
out  in  a  sentence  or  paragraph  one  idea  before 
confusing  it  with  another. 

One  who  enjoys  the  literary  art  in  this  sense 
will  always  be  a  reader,  and  as  he  grows  older 

he  will  appreciate  the  truth  of  the  words  which 
are  inscribed  on  the  Toronto  Public  Library, 
"Non  referi  quam  multos  sed  quatn  botws  half  eat 
libros."  The  young  man  is  inipatienl  to  read 
the  bunks  thai  the  world  is  talking  about;  the 

Older   man    is  content    to  sit   of  an   evening   with 

his  favourite  writer  brooding  over  ;  that 

are  familiar.     II.-  dues  nut  wary  of  fine  art  ami 
sententious  or  shrewd   observations.      A   combin- 
ation of  human   wisdom   with  chaste  ami  ad. 
quale  winds  brings  never  failing  pleasure. 

Hut  this  leads  me  t..  remark  further  that  the 

good  reader  has  not    n ssarily  a   voracious  ap 

petite  he  is  critical,  Selective,  makes  his  own 
choice,  and  enjoys  himself  in  doing  so.  He  is 
not  eager  to  find  from  the  shopman  what  the 
best  seller  of  the  past  month  has  been,  nor  does 
he  contribute  very  largely  to  make  the  fortune 
of  the  popular  novelist  or  witty  essayist.  I 
fancy,  however,  that  a  reader's  taste  may  be 
judged  in  a  measure  at  least  by  his  liking  for 
an  essay,  for  its  pith  and  essence  lie  in  its 
treatment  of  a  well  chosen  theme  within  a  mod- 
est compass.  An  effective  essay  must  exhibit 
literary  skill. 

But  a  good  reader  also  finds  pleasure  on  occa- 
sion at  least  by  wandering  through  the  ampler 
spaces  of  history  or  fields  of  thought  set  out 
in  a  series  of  volumes,  or  in  good  biography. 
There  are  times  when  one  finds  it  a  labour  to 
thread  one's  way  through  the  narrow  and  well 
trimmed  hedges  of  succinct  and  closely-com- 
pacted argument  as  in  a  small  plot  where  a 
clever  gardener  has  used  every  inch  of  space. 
Then  one  turns  to  the  leisurely  writer  who  is 
not  afraid  to  cany  one  off  into  some  comfort- 
able digression,  and  when  he  has  quietly  ex- 
plored it  will  bring  one  back  again  in  his  own 
good  time  to  the  main  highway  of  his  discourse. 

Such  a  reader  wishes  to  own  the  book  he  en- 
joys and  he  also  delights  in  a  good,  piece  of 
workmanship — well  printed,  well  bound,  and 
well  illustrated.  In  the  matter  of  book-making 
we  Canadians  have  still  a  long  way  to  go.  "We 
have  to  learn  much  in  the  art  of  printing,  and 
even  more  in  the  art  and  practice  of  binding. 
We  have  not  yet  the  traditions  of  a  great  book- 
making  centre  such  as  Edinburgh  or  Boston, 
nor  have  we  yet  had  the  generations  of  work- 
men who  have  handed  on  the  technique  from 
age  to  age,  and  who  know  how  to  use  their  in- 
struments with  such  precision  that  they  pass 
the  boundary  that  separates  art  from  mere 
utility.  This  lack  is  also  due  in  measure  to  the 
fact  that  we  have  in  Canada  few  people  who 
buy  a  fine  book  for  the  book's  sake.  If  more 
of  our  people  loved  books  well  enough  to  spend 
money  upon  handsome  or  even  well  printed 
volumes,  we  should  before  long  have  publishers 



January,  1910. 

who  would  undertake  to  produce  them,  and 
skilled  workmen  who  would  spend  pains  upon 
then)  and  take  pleasure  in  their  finished  ar- 

But  fortunately  the  genuine  reader  is  not  de- 
pendent  upon   an   expensive   edition   to  satisfy 
his  taste.     No  one  can  get  his    pleasure    more 
cheaply  than  the  reader  in  these  days  of  series 
for  the  average  man  which  are  within  the  reach 
of  all.     Nor  are  these  cheap  editions  carelessly 
produced  for  the  most  part.     Their  large  circu- 
lation makes  it  possible  to  print  them  well  and 
to  hind  them  in  convenient  and  often  artistic 
form.     And  in  peace  time  the  cost  of  carriage 
and   the  customs  duty  are  so  small  that  these 
good  books  can  be  placed  at  a  low  price  even  in 
the   Canadian  village.     It  is  not  therefore  for 
lack  of  books,  beautiful  and  cheap  though  for 
the  most  part  imported,  that  we  have  not  a  large 
reading  public  in  Canada.       It  is  because  we 
have  not  developed  a  sufficient  taste  for  litera- 
ture.    My  experience  leads  me  to  believe  that 
there  are  more  women  than  men  in  Canada  who 
are  good  readers.    Possibly  they  have  more  time, 
though  that  is  doubtful  when  household  duties 
are  so  manifold  and  constant;   I  rather  think 
that  women  make  more  time,   and    that     men 
spend  the  hours  on  politics  or  in  clubs;  where- 
by men  learn  it  is  true  average  human  nature 
in  a  direct  fashion  within  the  narrow  range  of 
their  own  home  town,  but  they  miss  the  wider 
experience  of  humanity  which  is  preserved  in 
literature,  history,  philosophic  speculation  and 
idealism ;  and  therefore,  while  effective  for  the 
many  things  that  can  be  settled  by  the  judg- 
ment of  the  man-on-the-street,  they  are  not  able 
to  form  as  well  balanced  decisions  on  human  af- 
fairs and  policies  which  are  determined  by  ideas 
that  find  only  occasional   embodiment    in    the 
limited  circle  in  which  they  move. 

i .  .»..•..•.-•--•■. •-■•-»--•••< 


j    Good  Books  the  Bulwark 
of  Democracy 

By  the  Very  Rev.  E.  P.  D.  Llwyd,  D.D., 
Dean  of  Halifax 

THE  appearance  of  a  magazine  like  the 
Canadian  Bookman  is  a  happy  omen. 
Such  a  publication  may  serve  a  double  func- 
tion— to  educate  opinion  with  reference  to  the 
value  of  literature  in  general ;  and  to  guide  the 
Canadian  mind  to  a  wise  selection  from  among 
the  myriad  publications  which  invite  attention. 
Observation  seems  to  point  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  reading  public  among  US  is  only  a  tiny 

fraction  of  our  total.  Democracy  rests  upon 
enlightened  intelligence,  and  the  food  of  intel- 
ligence is  information.  Canada  belongs  in  the 
list  of  democratic  nations:  it  is  clear,  therefore, 
that  the  lamp  of  knowledge  must  be  kept  ever 
burning  in  our  midst,  or  one  of  the  necessary 
safeguards  of  national  life  will  be  wanting. 

Education  has  a  two-fold  aspect:  there  is  the 
education   which  society   in   a   manner   imposes 
upon   its  members,  and  there  is  the  education 
which  a  man  gives  himself.     Perhaps  the  more 
important  of  these  is  the  latter,  for  it  is  through 
the  convictions  thus  arrived  at  that  the   indi- 
vidual citizen   is  able   to  influence  the  convic- 
tions of  the  whole.     The  importance  of  opinion 
becomes  more  clear  as  social   development   ad- 
vances.   No  instructed  contribution  to  the  form- 
ing of  that  collective  judgment  is  without  va- 
lue.     Therefore    no    citizen    can    afford    to    be 
uninformed  with  reference  to  the  movement  of 
life  around  him;  and  it  follows  by  inevitable 
logic  that  he  must  be  a  reader.    The  product  of 
his  own  brain  may  be  insignificant  and  poor, 
but  converse  with  the  master  minds  of  former 
ages,  or  with  the  thoughts  agitating  the  think- 
ers of  the  present,  will  bring  fertility  out  of 
barrenness,  and  useful  service  instead  of  men- 
tal vacancy.     The  average  man  is  not  expected 
to  share  in  public  assemblies,  yet  there  is  a  par- 
liament in  which  all  must  be  prepared  to  speak 
and  plead,  the  parliament  of  street,  and  club, 
and  drawing  room.     Here  things  of  moment  are 
propounded,   and  a  basis  is  sometimes  arrived 
at  for   decision.     This   implies   education,   that 
in  the  clash  of  striving  conceptions,  the  particu- 
lar thought  each  man  alone  can  give  may  not 
be  lost. 

Moreover,  the  education  of  one's  self  by  read- 
ing is  indispensable  to  the  living  of  the  liberal 
life.  Professionalism,  with  its  twin  brother, 
dogmatism,  are  the  abiding  perils  of  a  world 
of  specialization.  The  tendency  of  special  stud- 
ies is  to  foster  a  certain  stiffness  of  mind, 
where  knowledge  becomes  mechanical  and  its 
only  channel  is  the  rut.  He  talks  like  a  pro- 
fessor, men  say.  The  corrective  of  all  such  spe- 
cialism, with  its  Sir  Oracle  side-issues,  is  broad- 
er human  intercourse,  of  which  a  part  is  inter- 
course with  the  best  that  has  been  thought  and 
said  by  the  thinkers  of  the  past.  This  seems 
to  have  been  in  the  mind  of  that  earnest  writer, 
Matthew  Arnold,  as  the  instance  of  his  empha- 
sis upon  culture — the  freshening  of  the  brain 
by  the  steady  in-pouring  of  a  current  of  new 

For  those  whose  vocation  is  that  of  public 
teacher,  the  purchase  of  new  books  and  the  mas- 
tery of  their  contents  acquires  peculiar  import- 

January,  1919 



ance.     Freshness  of  mind  as  well  as  width  ot 
view  are  al  stake  for  them.     I  gelecl  for  illus 

tration   the  profession  with   which    I    am    si 

familiar.  Ii  is  s;iiil  thai  mosl  clergymen  cease 
reading  after  college.  If  this  were  even  meas- 
urably true,  the  knell  <>1'  pulpil  influence  would 
have  begun  to  toll.  A  reading  laity  pre-sup- 
poses  a  reading  and  thinking  clergy.  Even  the 
trash  mis-called  popular  fiction  has  been  known 
to  glean  a  theme  here  and  there  from  theologi- 
cal harvest  fields,  and  preachers  have  been 
heard  of  who  have  found  crumbs  of  sermon 
suggestion  even  in  the  hooks  resulting.  I  do 
not,  however,  agree  with  the  accusation  of  a 
non-reading  clergy,  except  in  so  far  as  the  de- 
fect may  he  an  outcome  of  poverty.  The  p  lo 
vision  of  a  more  ample  income  by  their  congre- 
gations would  raise  the  intellectual  product  of 
the  pulpit  one  hundred  per  cent  in  a  year.  Nor 
would  this  involve  sensatioualism,  straining  af- 
ter effect,  or  preaching  over  the  heads  of  the 

I  once  heard  a  church  member  say,  relative 
to  a  contribution  for  the  increase  of  his  minis- 
ter's salary:  "What  need  of  all  this  reading  of 
books  and  magazines?  We  want  the  Gospel, 
and  the  Gospel  pure!"  He  really  meant  he 
wanted  it  cheap,  and  the  cheap  Gospel  is  al- 
ways the  dearest  in  the  end.  A  cheap  Gospel  is 
apt  to  be  a  narrow  one,  whereas  the  real  Gospel 
is  as  big  and  as  universal  as  life.  The  scale  of 
salaries  needs  increase  in  all  the  teaching  pro- 
fessions in  the  name  of  a  more  thorough  cul- 
ture. When  one  sees  the  compensation  ( ?)  of 
school  teachers  as  announced  in  press  advertise- 
ments for  the  filling  of  vacancies,  one  stands 
aghast  in  wonder  how  such  a  sum  can  feed  and 
clothe  the  body,  let  alone  take  care  of  the  nour- 
ishment of  the  mind. 

Some  one  may  instance  our  great  public  lib- 
paries  as  havens  of  refuge  for  the  man  of  small 
income  addicted  to  intellectual  pleasures.  It  is 
matter  for  thankfulness  that  even  the  impe- 
cunious can  find  in  such  institutions  a  place  in 
the  literary  sun.  But  for  my  part  I  must  con- 
fess to  a  certain  obsession  in  favour  of  owner- 
ship. I  like  to  feel  that  a  book  wdiich  I  have 
learned  to  value  is  my  own,  and  I  fancy  that  in 
this  respect  there  is  a  sort  of  tribal  likeness  am- 
ong students.  Property  rights  in  a  book  have 
something  of  a  corresponding  savour  to  that 
feeling  of  property  in  a  friend  which  sets  him 
in  a  niche  by  himself  above  all  mere  casual  ac- 
quaintance. Since  the  entrance  of  the  small 
book  into  the  market — yes,  even  where  the  cov- 
eted volume  is  of  less  manageable  cost — a  care- 
ful and  selective  purchaser  can  make  a  little 
money  go  a  great  way.  Few  men  exist  in  Can- 
ada who  cannot  afford  one  good  standard  book 

every  three  a ths.    The  reading  material  thus 

sel  frrr  for  use,  an, i  ii,.-  increase  in  noble  liter 
ature  upo ir  shelves,  I na  up  quite  startling 

al   tin-  end  ill'.  Bay,  ten  years. 

1,1  'l"1  selection  of  books,  such  a  magazini 
this  oughl  to  prove  invaluable.     How  to  choose 
wisely  amidsl  tin-  ,■,,/,,,/  librorum  now  Flooding 

tin'   literary   market    is  the   problem  of  the  aver 

age  reader,  It  is  said  that  the  currenl  output 
is  ahinit  one  hundred  thousand  volumes  a  year. 

Such   a    fart    sheds    illumination    upon     the      va- 
riety of  human   interests,  and   the   immense  oul 
reach    of    the    modern    mind    into   the    realms   of 

nature,  history,  and  experience.     Hut  it  carries 

confusion  also.  Literature  becomes  Thebes, 
the  city  of  a  hundred  gates,  and  there  is  bewil- 
dermenl  in  store  for  whoso  seeks  t,,  ehoose  am- 
ong  SUCh    a    multitude   of   outlets    into   the    fields 

of  thought. 

Most  of  us  have  our  literary  preferences,  in 
whose  formation  we  have  followed  our  taste  or 
our  experience.  Or  we  have  obeyed  the  guid- 
ance of  such  experts  in  hook  lore  as  Lord  Ave- 
bury  or  Lord  Acton.  From  their  superior  judg- 
ment may  have  issued  appreciation  on  our  part 
of  the  great  literature  which  in  Milton's  words 
is  "the  previous  blood  of  a  master  spirit,  pre- 
served unto  a  life  beyond  life."  From  lists  al- 
so like  those  of  Everyman 's  Library,  we  may 
have  learned  in  what  other  directions  our  feet 
may  turn  in  quest  of  knowledge.  But  the  great 
mass  of  current  literature  still  remains  an  un- 
charted sea.  For  this  the  magazines  must  be 
to  some  extent  our  guide.  The  Spectator,  the 
Times  Literary  Supplement,  the  admirable  re- 
views of  the  Athenaeum  and  the  Nation,  and 
now  the  pronouncements  of  their  youngest  sis- 
ter, the  Canadian  Bookman — he  who  serves  his 
taste  from  the  weekly  and  monthly  banquet  pro- 
vided in  these,  will  surely  not  altogether  miss 
the  joys  of  the  feast  of  literature. 

.  «..»..»..»■■«.■«■.«■.<. .»..#.,».. 

—"♦••>■■••■•■••■••■■•'■♦■■»■'•■'•■'••'•■'•■'■'   9     •   ■•■■» 

Literature  as  a  Force  in 
Canadian  Development 

By  the  Hon.  Sir  William  Hearst, 
K.  C.  M.  G.,  Premier  of  Ontario. 

I  COULD  wish  nothing  better  for  Canada 
than  that  every  home  in  the  land  had  in 
familiar  and  frequent  use  a  collection  of  the 
best  and  brightest  books.  We  would  then  be 
a  greater  people,  intellectually  as  well  as  mor- 
ally, and,  I  doubt  not.  happier  and  more  pro- 
sperous. Siuee  it  is  not  the  good  fortune  of  us 
all  to  possess  such  a  treasure.  I  am  glad  to 



January,  1919. 

know  that  many  of  us  can  have  it  in  part,  and 
that  all  can  have  aeeess  to  it  in  one  way  or  an- 
other. Inasmuch  as  literature  is  the  sum  to- 
tal of  recorded  human  knowledge,  it  is  uni- 
versal in  its  scope,  both  as  to  time  and  place. 
What  mortal  man  can  hope  to  be  familiar  with 
a  realm  so  vast  and  unbounded?  At  m  «t, 
we  can  only  study  and  assimilate  such  books 
as  are  of  direct  benefit  and  interest  to  us,  and 
acquire  a  casual  acquaintance  of  a  limited  num- 
ber of  others.  For  the  average  busy  man  the 
problem  is  to  know  what  books  are  most 
worthy  of  his  time  and  attention.  He  is  lucky 
indeed  if  some  kind  friend  will  introduce  him 
to  a  good  book  which  he  can  approach  with 
confidence  and  cherish  as  a  permanent  posses- 
sion and  companion.  Someone  has  said  that 
books  are  our  best  friends  for  they  never  de- 
ceive us.  It  is  well  to  have  as  many  friends 
as  possible,  especially  if  they  be  of  the  kind 
described.  But  there  are  books  and  books. 
Many  there  are  which  are  an  estimable  bless- 
ing to  the  human  race  and  others  which  we 
could  spare  with  advantage.  Unfortunately  it 
happens  usually  that  if  a  book  is  denounced  as 
thoroughly  pernicious  in  its  influence,  that 
fact  is  sufficient  to  attract  hosts  of  curious  and 
thoughtless  readers.  Therefoie,  in  the  long 
run  it  pays  to  ignore  such  undesirable  litera- 
ture rather  than  to  denounce  and  thereby  ad- 
vertise it.  So  much  there  is  in  our  libraries 
and  bookstores  that  is  good  and  wholesome 
that,  in  spite  of  many  glaring  exceptions,  books 
are  among  the  best  influences  in  the  world  to- 
day. I  take  it  that  the  province  of  the  liter- 
ary critic  is  first  and  last  to  help  us  in  our 
ehoice  of  books.  Such  a  guide  is  like  an  explor- 
er who  locates  valuable  deposits,  sometimes  in 
the  most  unexpected  places,  and  points  them 
out  to  us.  If  the  critic  is  given  either  to  ful- 
some flattery  or  to  censorious  fault-finding, 
he  fails  in  his  mission.  It  is  his  duty  to  be 
truthful  and  honest  without  allowing  himself 
to  be  prejudiced  or  biased.  Above  all,  I  think 
it  is  the  duty  of  the  book-wise  to  educate  the 
popular  taste  to  a  due  appreciation  of  what 
is  highest  ami  best.  In  a  country  like  Canada, 
which  is  still  undeveloped  in  many  respects, 
a  greater  appreciation  of  good  books  will  tend 
t  _>  increase  the  market  for  them  as  well  as  the 
talent  to  produce  them.  Literature  must,  and 
will,  be  an  essential  part  of  our  progress  and 
development  as  a  nation.  All  honour  to  what 
Canadians  have  done  and  are  doing  at  home 
and  abroad,  but  their  efforts  will  not  bring  the 
results  they  ought  if  they  are  not  stepping- 
-.t o ties  to  greater  things  in  the  future.  We  are 
a  young,  vigorous,  ami  progressive  country, 
and  I  look  to  see  the  development  of  our  liter- 

ature not  only  keep  step,  but  lead  our  advance 
in  every  branch  of  national  effort. 

»..»..  «..*.. s..s..«..*.. «..».. »..«. ...  .«..•..«..».  ....,..# 

j    Books  Should  Not  Be 
1  aken  Neat 

By  William  Lawson  Grant,  M.  A., 
Principal  of  Upper  Canada  College 

WRITING  in  1839,  Arnold  of  Rugby  lament- 
ed the  decay  of  the  habit  of  solid  reading, 
and  ascribed  it  to  "the  great  number  of  excit- 
ing books  of  amusement,  like  'Pickwick'  and 
'Nickleby. '  "  What  would  he  have  said  of 
to-day,  when  Dickens  has  been  succeeded  by 
the  scrappy  magazine  and  the  still  scrappier 

The  young  Canadian  has  few  intellectual  in- 
terests. Our  girls  are  healthy  and  clean,  but 
their  infinite  gibble-gabble  can  only  come  from 
minds  intellectually  unawakened.  Our  boys 
are  naturally  keen  and  intelligent.  They  have 
attained  special  distinction  in  the  most  tech- 
nical and  scientific  branch  of  the  fighting 
forces,  the  air-service.  But  their  interest  in 
ideas  is  small.  Indeed,  they  rather  pride  them- 
selves as  practical  men  on  a  lack  of  interest 
in  abstractions.  "He  is  not  strong  on  ab- 
stract ideas,"  was  the  praise  recently  given  by 
a  great  Canadian  newspaper  to  a  great  Can- 
adian business  man. 

Of  course,  reading  has  its  dangers.  Nowhere 
was  reading  so  rife  as  in  Germany.  Unfor- 
tunately, that  country  tended  to  take  its  books 
and  its  ideas  neat,  as  some  people  do  their 
brandy,  and  with  results  even  more  disastrous. 
Reading,  as  Bacon  said  long  ago,  must  be 
"perfected  by  experience,"  "for  natural  abili- 
ties are  like  natural  plants,  that  need  pruning 
by  study ;  and  studies  themselves  do  give  forth 
directions  too  much  at  large,  except  they  be 
bounded  in  by  experience."  But  Canadians 
at  present  need  the  study  much  more  than  the 
experience,  and  are  much  more  apt  to  wander 
into  the  land  of  Philistia  than  into  the  wilder- 
ness of  Pedantry. 

Our  schools,  in  the  attempt  to  teach  English 
Literature  thoroughly  and  scientifically,  have 
divorced  reading  from  reality.  The  unhappy 
pupil  is  taught  not  to  read  shakespeare,  but 
to  "do"  him,  with  the  result  that  poor  Shakes- 
peare gets  so  over-done  as  to  be  quite  unpalat- 
able; not  to  read  Coleridge,  but  to  study  "The 
Ancient  Mariner,"  with  a  view  to  discover- 
ing whether  "I  wist"  is  a  corruption  of 
ge-wiss,  or  only  a  preterite  of  uritan,  and  such 

January,  1919. 

CANADIA  \    BOOR  '/  1  \ 


other  pedantic  lore.  In  the  natural  recoil  from 
English  so  taught,  our  hoys  and  girls  fly  to 
Gene  Stratton  Porter,  and  satiate  their  souls 
with  slush. 

Yt't  there  is  no  Deed  Eor  teacher  or  publicist 
to  be  discouraged.  One  must  remember  thai  the 
solid  reading  of  which  Arnold  spoke  was  done 
by  a  small  and  select  class.  If  there  has  been  in 
that  class  any  Lowering  of  standard,  there  has 
been  in  the  other  classes  an  enormous  levelling 
up.  The  figures  published  by  our  great  public- 
libraries  show  how  much  reading  is  done,  and 
how  solid  much  of  it  is.  The  success  of  such 
series  as  Everyman's  Library  tells  the  same  tale. 
Making  every  necessary  reservation,  there  is 
evidently  in  Canada  a  large  reading  public 
ready  to  have  their  standards  raised  by  just 
such  a  publication  as  the  Canadian  Bookman: 
ready  to  be  taught  that,  as  John  Milton  said,  "A 
good  book  is  the  precious  life-blood  of  a  master- 
spirit, embalmed  and  treasured  up  on  purpose 
to  a  life  bevond  life." 

Cheap  Magazines,  Crime 
and  Insanity 

By  the  Hon.  Thomas  William  McGarry, 
Provincial  Treasurer  of  Ontario 

.•'■'.•■♦.»  ■#■■■>■•*•*  ■»»—»«  1  1  1  1  1 

n>..t.i«.i»n«  » i> 

WE  Canadians,  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
are  not  a  "bookish'*  people.  We  even 
lay  no  claim  to  the  title  as  book-collectors, 
book-lovers,  or  book-readers.  Not  that  there 
are  not  some  among  us  who  like  to  see  and 
possess  good  and  beautifully  bound  "books, 
and  have  carried  their  hobby  so  far  as  to  make 
a  large  collection  of  them,  and  there  are  others 
who  have  gathered  together  a  few  books,  as 
they  have  made  friends,  well-loved  and  inti- 

If  we  were  to  judge  by  the  number  of  daily 
papers  sold  in  our  country,  we  should  feel 
inclined  to  deny  the  charge  that  we  were  not 
a  reading  people.  In  fact,  we  know  that  much 
of  our  time  is  consumed  in  reading  newspaper 
gossip,  which  time,  if  spent  on  good  books,  in 
a  few  years  would  bring  about  amazing  results 
towards  increasing  the  number  of  well-inform- 
ed people.  Consider  the  appalling  amount  of 
written  matter  that  is  needed  to  feed  the  daily 
press.  It  is  impossible,  considering  the  present 
state  of  education,  that  there  should  be  enough 
cultured  persons,  male  and  female  together,  to 
supply  the  insatiable   monster. 

Again,  if  we  were  to  judge  by  the  class  of 
literature  displayed  on  news-stands,  heaps  of 

magazines  of  all  colors  and  designs,  and  glance 
over  the  contents,  and  try  to  judge  the  effeel 
such  reading  matter  would  have  on  our  peo- 
ple, who  in  their  idle  and  receptive  hours  con- 
sume such  emotional  ami  lurid  stuff  as  the  ma- 
j  Tii)   of  magazines  contain     well,  one  should 

■i"'  wonder  at  the  increase  of  crime  and  insan- 
ity in  our  midst.  It  is  a  great  misfortune  to 
have    a    vulgar    mind,    ami    even    the    desultory 

reading  of  some  of  the  magazines,  claimed  to  be 
"best  sellers,"  cannot  hdp  bul  tend  to  blunt 
our  finer  feelings,  and  when  people  read  no- 
thing but  this  so  called  literature,  what  can 
one  expect  bul  vulgarity  and  coarseness?  "We 
must,  of  course,  except  the  two  extremes,  those 
who  have  naturally  such  sound  and  excellent 
taste  that  nothing  readable  will  corrupt  it, 
and  those  so  depraved  that  they  will  not  ap- 
preciate the  higher  things  even  when  thrust 
upon  them. 

Education  is  almost  universal,  but  if  a  man 
knows  how  to  read,  and  not  what  to  read,  his 
case  is  more  desperate  so  far  as  culture  is  con- 
cerned, than  that  of  him  who  does  not  read  at 
all.  A  man  may  be  cultured  and  have  the  know- 
ledge of  but  a  few  books,  and  so  too,  one 
may  be  an  omnivorous  reader  and  have  a  very 
vulgar  mind.  What  I  should  like  to  see  is 
more  time  given  to  the  study  of  literature  in 
our  schools,  commencing  in  the  early  grades, 
and  continuing  through  the  high  school.  Our 
boys  and  girls  can  early  be  taught  to  love  the 
good  books,  and  thus  their  taste  for  the  best 
in  literature  would  be  formed,  and  in  the  years 
to  come  the  list  of  Canadian  fictional  wri- 
ters and  poets,  historians  and  scientists  will 
be  vastly  increased,  and  they  will  make  their 
mark  throughout  the  English-speaking  world. 
Our  achievements  in  the  great  war  have  been 
a  tremendous  advertisement  for  Canada  and 
everything  Canadian.  All  the  world  will  now 
want  to  know  something  about  this  busy  young 
nation,  that  has  not  merely  taken  a  place  am- 
ong the  greatest  military  nations,  but  has  ac- 
tually become  the  spearhead  of  the  greatest  of 
them.  It  cannot  be  otherwise  than  that  Can- 
ada will  fill  a  great  place  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world  during  the  years  that  are  next  to  come, 
and  it  is  well  that  our  literature  should  have 
worthy  representatives.  Canadian  produc- 
tions must  stand  on  their  own  merits;  they 
have  to  compete  as  literature  against  the  pro- 
ductions of  Britain,  the  other  British  dominions 
and  the  United  States,  and  if  they  cannot  stand 
on  their  own  merits,  they  will  fall.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  they  are  worthy  to  endure,  it 
will  not  be  because  they  are  Canadian,  but  be- 
cause they  have  insight,  vigour,  originality  and 



January,  1919. 


The  Shelf  of  Third  Rate 
Novels :    A  Current  Plague  j 

By  E.  F.  Scott,  D.  D.,  Professor  of  New 

Testament  Literature,  Queen's 


A  MAGAZINE  which  aims  at  promoting  a 
wider  interest  in  books  ought  to  re- 
ceive a  welcome  from  all  who  are  concerned  for 
the  true  progress  of  Canada.  There  are  many 
book-lovers  in  this  country,  and  they  are  often 
to  be  found  in  unexpected  places;  but  it  must 
be  admitted  that  we  are  not,  in  the  mass,  a 
reading  people.  The  book-store,  even  in  our 
larger  towns,  has  a  struggle  to  survive,  and 
can  only  do  so  by  displaying  toys  and  tobacco 
and  Christmas  gifts  along  with  its  modest  col- 
lection of  volumes.  In  numberless  houses  which 
are  perfect  in  all  matters  of  plumbing  and  up- 
holstery you  will  find  only  a  shelf  or  two  of 
third-rate  novels  to  bear  witness  that  the 
human  mind  has  achieved  something  in  other 
directions.  There  is  perhaps  no  country  with 
anything  like  the  same  pretensions  to  a  higher 
civilization  in  which  books  play  such  a  minor 
part  in  the  general  life.  For  this  condition 
of  things  there  are  no  doubt  many  causes,  but 
one  of  them  may  be  worth  mentioning,  because 
it  could  easily  be  remedied.  Most  of  our  books 
have  necessarily  to  be  imported  and  the  Gov- 
ernment does  its  best  to  exclude  them  by  a 
duty  which  makes  their  price  prohibitive.  What 
is  the  purpose  of  this  most  stupid  and  vexa- 
tious of  all  taxes,  which  at  most  can  add  only 
a  few  thousand  dollars  to  the  revenue,  at  the 
cost  of  starving  the  intellectual  life  of  the  coun- 
try? Home  industries  ought  to  be  encouraged; 
but  does  the  Government  seriously  expect  to 
stimulate  native  genius  by  this  sheltering  of 
its  market  from  the  competition  of  English 
and  French  writers?  (German  books  are  ad- 
mitted free!)  There  can  be  no  question  that 
if  books  were  made  cheaper  in  Canada  they 
would  be  more  generally  bought  and  read.  In 
the  Canadian  Bookman  the  down-trodden  class 
of  book-buyers  has  at  last  found  an  advocate. 
Is  it  too  much  to  hope  that  you  may  be  able 
to  effect  something  in  this  matter  for  our  de- 

One  often  hears  it  argued  that  the  neglect 
of  books,  however  it  may  be  explained,  is  na- 
tural in  a  new  country,  and  is  creditable  to  us 
rather  than  otherwise.  Our  people,  we  are 
told,  are  fully  occupied  with  their  great  prac- 
tical  task  of  developing  this  vast  territory. 
By-and-by  they  will   gain   leisure  for  art  and 

literature  and  all  the  rest,  but  for  the  present 
they  have  more  urgent  work  on  hand.  But  it 
is  hard  to  see  how  this  excuse  will  serve  for 
Canada  as  we  know  it.  in  this  twentieth  cen- 
tury. Is  it  not  time  that  the  ordinary  well-to- 
do  Canadian  should  cease  posing  as  a  grim 
pioneer,  engaged  in  a  constant  battle  with  the 
wilderness?  His  battle — waged  for  the  most 
part  in  a  comfortable  city  office — is  not  really 
so  exhausting  as  to  use  up  all  his  energies. 
He  could  relax  occasionally  for  a  little  quiet 
reading  and  thinking  if  he  wanted  to.  For 
that  part,  the  very  fact  that  this  is  a  new  coun- 
try makes  it  the  more  necessary  that  we  should 
cultivate  the  love  of  books.  In  older  coun- 
tries men  have  the  past  around  them  in  all 
their  daily  life,  and  are  kept  in  touch,  alufosi 
without  knowing  it,  with  the  great  traditions 
of  the  race.  Here  we  must  preserve  our  hold 
of  them  through  the  medium  of  books,  or  else 
lose  them  altogether. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show  tha*  if  our 
people  had  more  of  the  habit  of  reading  they 
would  be  all  the  better  fitted  for  those  orae- 
tical  tasks  to  which  they  have  specially  devot- 
ed themselves.  Nobody  can  deny  the  sagacity 
and  keenness  of  mind  of  the  average  Canadian, 
but  his  limitations  are  also  apparent.  His 
judgments,  however  intelligent,  are  apt  to  be 
hard  and  narrow.  He  often  misses  the  real 
drift  even  of  a  practical  question  for  want  of 
a  little  sympathy  and  imagination.  With  all 
his  shrewdness  he  is  prone  to  a  curious  sim- 
plicity, which  takes  men  at  their  own  valua- 
tion, and  allows  an  open  door  to  mediocrities 
and  charlatans.  These  are  precisely  the  de- 
fects which  are  cured  by  reading,  and  cannot 
very  well  be  cured  in  any  other  way.  The  mind 
cultivated  by  books  may  not  be  any  stronger 
than  nature  made  it,  but  at  any  rate  it  becomes 
broader,  more  supple,  more  sure  in  its  criti- 
cism  of  men  and  things.  It  is  safe  to  say  that 
if  our  people  had  only  read  more,  they  wou'd 
have  held  back  from  various  wild  schemes 
which  they  have  had  cause  to  regret.  They 
would  have  acted  on  something  else  than  a 
hand-to-mouth  policy  on  one  matter  and  an- 
other that  vitally  concerned  their  well-being. 
In  their  search  for  guides  and  counsellors  they 

would  never  have  fixed  on  the  Hon.  Mr.  

hut  this  is  touching  on  delicate  ground. 

Books  are  not  everything,  and  with  the 
warning  of  Germany  before  us  we  do  not  wish 
to  build  the  future  of  Canada  on  a  purely 
bookish  foundation.  But  when  all  is  said,  the 
world's  best  wisdom  and  its  loftiest  thoughts 
and  imaginations  are  stored  up  in  books,  and 
if  we  neglect  them  we  make  ourselves  infinite- 
ly poorer.     Canada  has  wakened  of  late  years 

January,  L919. 

CANADIAN    lit)t>l\  1/  l  \ 


to  a  knowledge  of  its  wonderful  material 
wealth,  and  is  seeking  by  everj  means  to  make 
ii  more  fully  available.  Bui  as  one  of  the 
British  nations  we  possess  a  treasure  still  more 
wonderful,  in  the  greatesl  literature  thai  the 
world  has  known.  Let  us  make  better  use  of 
this  part,  of  our  inheritance. 

1  ■  ■  ■  ■  inaii 

j  The  Tragedy  of  Mental 

By  Samuel  Henry  Hooke,  M.A.,  B.D., 
Assoc.  Professor  of  Oriental  Literature 
Victoria  College,  Toronto 


Nothing  save  mental  blindness  can  be  sin; 
All  seeing  saves,   all  hearing,   all  delight. 

THE  mad  Shepherd,"  Mr.  Jacks'  most 
delightful  creat'on,  speaks  of  a  condi- 
tion which  he  describes  as  being  "stuck  in 
one's  skin.''  Books  are  not  necessarily  a 
remedy  for  it.  Merely  bookish  people  indeed 
acquire  a  solid  calf-skin  binding  which  is  even 
harder  to  break  through  than  the  integument 
they  were  born  in.  But  the  really  great  things 
in  literature  have  only  come  from  people  who 
had  learnt  how  to  escape  from  their  skin. 
Hence  great  literature  may  be  one  way  of  es- 
cape. It  may  serve  as  the  magic  looking 
glass  for  those  who  will  break  through  it  into 
the  real  world  of  truth  and  beauty  behind  it. 
The  condition  which  Bernard  Shaw  has  so  long 
waged  his  brilliant  warfare  with,  his  bugbear 
of  Philistinism,  is  just  the  state  in  which  so 
many  of  us  spend  our  lives  without  being 
aware  that  anything  is  wrong  with  us.  It  is  a 
state,  in  Masefield's  phrase,  of  "mental  blind- 
ness," of  being  "stuck  in  one's  skin."  Like 
Peter  Bell,  of  famous  memory,  we  find  in  the 
primrose  by  the  river's  brim  a  simple  prim- 
rose, and  we  thank  God  that  we  are  as  other 
men  are. 

In  his  poem  'The  Wanderer,"  Masefield 
has  a  vivid  passage  describing  a  winter  morn- 
ing's walk,  "breasting  up  the  fells."    He  says: 

And  soon  men  looked  upon  a  glittering  earth. 

Intensely  sparkling  like  a  world  new-born; 
Only  to  look  was  spiritual  birth, 

So  bright  the  raindrops  ran  along  the  thorn. 

So   bright   they   were,    that   one    could   almost 

Beyond  their  twinkling  to   the  source,    and 

The   glory   pushing   in   the   blade   of  grass, 

Thai    hidden   soul   which   makes  the   Flowers 

tl  |-  thai  "spiritual  birth,"  the  sudden  Hash 
"''  seeing  thai  saves,  thai  delivers  from  the 
mental  blindness  thai  is  the  real  sin  againsl 
the  Holy  Ghost. 

Canada   has    alreadj    shown    thai     -I an 

bring  seers  to  the  birth.    No  one  not  hopelessly 
stuck   in   his  skin    could   look   al   Tom   Thorn 
son's  pictures   of  the   Canadian    North    with- 
out   some   sense   Of  awe.      There   was   a    man    who 

had  seen  the  realitj   behind  the  veils,  had  seen 

God  face  to  lace  and  died  of  it. 

But,  rightlj  used,  the  remedy  thai  lies  near- 
est   to   us   is   greal    literature.     A   young  and 

virile  country,  es] ially   in   this  age  of  effi 

ciency  and  industrialism,  is  in  danger  of  ma- 
terialism, which  is  jusl  another  name  for  be- 
ing stuck  in  one's  sk'n.  It  is  not  easy  to  create 
standards  of  value  that  cannot  be  measured  in 
terms  of  the  dollar.  But  the  right  use  of  the 
best  books  is  one  of  the  most  potent  forces  to- 
wards the  creation  of  a  spirit  which  can  make 
a  nation  truly  gnat  in  the  best  sense.„  It  was 
Virgil's  spirit  that  led  Dante  to  the  final 
sublime  vision  of  the  power  "that  moves  the 
sun  in  heaven  and  all  the  stars."  One  who 
has  been  brought,  by  consorting  with  the  seers 
who  have  written  down  their  visions,  to  see 
something  of  the  beauty  that  is  truth,  can  say 
with  the  hero  of  the  old  fable  of  Apuleius,  "I 
have  eaten  rose  leaves,  I  am  no  longer  an  ass." 

^-^"•"•"■'■•■■•■■•■■•■■•■■•'■•"•■^■■•■■•■■•■■■II  —  . ■■■»■■»■■■!     ■       «       *»»■■■•«       «       ■       9 


j  Literature  the  Handmaid 
I  of  Religion 

|  By  the  Rt.  Rev.  John  Farthing,  D.D., 

i  Bishop  of  Montreal 

%■■«..«.     ■  ■.§..  »■■«■■».  .1.  ■  >■■«.«        >..■..«.■♦■.«..»■. «.,»,.«..»..«-«..«..«-«..»^~«..»..«_«..«„ 

IT  has  been  said  that  literature  and  life  are 
indissolubly  bound  together.  The  litera- 
ture of  a  nation  expresses  its  life.  The  life 
of  a  nation  is  complex.  Even  in  the  in 
dividual  there  is  the  ever  continuing  struggle 
of  the  baser  against  the  better  self.  This 
struggle  is  bound  to  show  itself  in  the  litera- 
ture of  the  nation.  When  the  baser  gains  the 
ascendancy,  it  will  result  in  the  lowering  of 
the  whole  moral  stamina  of  the  people.  For 
this  reason  I  have  been  alarmed  to  notice  the 
multiplication  of  the  Short  Story  Magazine, 
which  depicts  the  frivolous  and  the  sensual 
phases  of  life,  and  ignores,  sometimes  even 
ridicules,  the  pure  and  noble.     Minds  fed  at 



January,  191  it. 

such  a  trough  are  bound  to  be  corrupted,  and 
we  shall  inevitably  see  the  result  in  low  ideals 
and  morals.  This  style  of  literature  is  a  men- 
ace to  the  country. 

The  time  is  most  opportune  to  put  forth  a 
propaganda  for  the  creation  and  circulation  of 
the  best  in  literature.  During  the  war  all  our 
leaders  in  Church  and  State,  in  speeches,  in 
books,  and  through  the  press,  have  been  put- 
ting before  the  people  the  higher  and  nobler 
ideals  of  life;  sacrifice  and  service,  liberty 
and  righteousness,  have  not  only  been  advo- 
cated, but  have  been  exemplified  in  thousands 
of  lives.  Our  own  young  men  and  women 
have  become  as  real  heroes  and  heroines  as  any 
of  the  nations  of  the  past  have  produced.  This 
has  awakened  a  new  spirit  of  nationhood 
among  us,  and  has  made  these  virtues  a  great 
national  possession;  and  the  pride  of  posses- 
sion will  stimulate  the  desire  to  emulate.  What 
the  war  has  won  in  national  idealism,  peace 
must  not  destroy.  What  our  heroes  have  re- 
vealed in  our  national  life,  must  be  utilised  in 
the  days  of  peace.  The  danger  to  the  nation 
is  not  over  when  peace  is  signed.  We  must 
cling  to  the  ideals  with  which  we  aroused  and 
maintained  our  morale,  and  we  must  continue 
to  strive  to  realise  them  in  the  life  of  the  na- 
tion, and  embody  them  in  our  national  tradi- 

This  can  only  be  done  by  developing  the 
spiritual  life  through  religion.  The  greatest 
aid  to  religion  is  good  literature.  By  good  I 
do  not  mean  necessarily  that  which  is  directly 
dealing  with  religious  subjects.  All  that  is 
ennobling  and  pure  is  religious,  whether  it  be 
history  or  fiction. 

The  task  before  us  is  great.  There  must 
first  be  created  a  love  for  good  literature.  A 
literature  which  expresses  the  high  ideals 
which  have  inspired  the  nation  during  these 
years  of  struggle  will  be  eagerly  read.  This 
can  be  the  preparation  for  the  best  in  other 
fields  of  literature.  The  best  way  to  create 
this  love  for  the  good  is  to  provide  good  lit- 
erature, which  will  be  within  the  comprehen- 
sion of  the  ordinary  person.  The  circulation 
of  the  best  from  other  lands  is  important ;  but 
what  is  more  important,  to  my  mind,  is  to 
create  a  Canadian  literature,  which  will  ex- 
press our  national  ideals.  Literature  must 
do  even  more  than  express  life,  it  must  mould 
it.  Canada  has  clone  much  in  this  field  already, 
of  which  we  can  be  proud.  It  is  a  good  begin- 
ning. We  must  encourage  our  own  writers,  for 
as  we  have  produced  as  good  soldiers  as  any 
other  nation,  why  should  we  not  produce  as 

good  writers?  Before  literature  can  mould  the 
life  of  the  nation  it  must  be  brought  within  the 
reach  of  even  the  poorest  of  our  people.  We 
want  a  cultured  poor  as  much  as  a  cultured 
rich.  To  attain  this  we  must  have  cheap  edi- 
tions of  the  best  works ;  cheap  magazines 
which  will  drive  out  the  cheap  and  nasty  ones 
which  are  doing  so  much  harm  to  our  youth. 
We  must  have  more  and  better  public  libraries 
where  the  poorest  man  can  obtain,  freely,  the 
very  best  books. 

It  is  because  I  understand  that  the  Cana- 
dian Bookman  will  strive  diligently  to  create 
the  love  of  the  good,  and  to  supply  that  litera- 
ture, that  I  wish  it  every  success  in  its  work, 
and  will  gladly  do  what  I  can  to  help  it  in  its 
great  purpose. 

Canadian    Indifference 
to  Books 

By  Maurice  Hutton,  M.A.,  LL.D  ,  Principal 
of  University  College,  Toronto 

IF  any  man  ought  to  know  the  deficiency  of 
Canadians  in  the  matter  of  books  and  book- 
reading  a  teacher  of  the  classics  should  know 

Our  men — as  they  have  shown  in  this  war — 
are  the  equals,  to  say  the  least,  of  the  people 
of  the  United  Kingdom  in  courage,  enterprise, 
self-reliance,  versatility  of  mind,  and  general 
handiness;  they  are  deficient  in  their  love  of 
books,  in  their  interest  and  grasp  of  literature 
and  history;  and  it  is  in  the  classics  more  than 
anywhere  else  that  this  deficiency  betrays  it- 

One  might  suppose  a  priori  that  our  students 
would  be  scholars  as  competent  as  those  of  Ox- 
ford and  Cambridge;  handicapped,  though  they 
be,  by  the  comparative  scarcity  of  a  literary 
home-atmosphere  in  this  new  country,  doxibly 
handicapped  by  the  deficiencies  of  our  school 
system,  its  congested  time-tables  and  list  of 
subjects,  and  its  indifference  to  languages  (ex- 
cept English,  which  is  generally  acquired  bet- 
ter indirectly  via  the  classics)  yet  one  might  ex- 
pect that  their  more  serious  and  business-like 
attitude  of  mind,  and  their  greater  industry, 
and  Scotch  grit  would  enable  them  to  overtake 
the  easy-going  cricketers  of  the  great  English 
public  schools ;  if  they  do  not,  and  they  show 
no  signs  of  doing  so  in  classics,  the  cause  lies 

January,  1919. 

'    i  \  IDIAN    BOOKMAN 



in  the  matter  of  books  and  reading,  or  rather  in 
the  lack  of  books  and  reading. 

There  are  two  or  three  trays  in  which  this 
may  be  illustrated.  In  Oxford  and  Cambridge 
a  student  hardly  expects  to  read  bis  authors  in 
term  time;  he  gives  term  time  to  Lectures  and 
essays  and  athletics;  he  does  the  greater  pari 
of  his  private  reading — without  which  lectures 
are  a  snare  and  a  delusion — in  the  long  vaca 
tion :  the  best  men  have  private  tutors  then  for 
at  least  a  month,  but  in  any  case  they  expect 
to  get  through  the  texts  of  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
Cicero  and  Tacitus.  Thucydides  and  Herodo- 
tus then. 

Conditions  in  this  country  are  absolutely  dif- 
ferent. I  cannot  recall  any  student  of  whom  I 
am  positive  that  he  had  this  advantage:  the  ma- 
jority even  of  the  best  students  have  spent 
their  long  vacations  in  other  ways,  and  have 
worked  hard — however  unintentionally  and  un- 
willingly— at  forgetting  in  the  summer  the  nod- 
ding acquaintance  with  the  men  of  light  and 
leading  of  the  ancient  world  (still  men  of  light 
and  leading  on  all  serious  subjects  of  history  and 
philosophy  for  the  serious  thinkers  of  to-day  . 
which  they  had  begun  to  acquire  in  term  time. 
It  is  partly  an  inevitable  result  of  res  angusta: 
partly  of  the  Canadian  impatience  with  books : 
but  in  either  case  it  is  fatal  to  scholarship  and 
to  understanding  of  the  subject. 

The  same  thing  is  illustrated  even  more  vivid- 
ly by  the  comparative  size  of  the  students'  lib- 
rary in  the  two  lands :  no  one  dreams  in  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  of  "dying:  on  the  college  lib- 
rary for  the  ordinary  good  editions  of  the  clas- 
sics :  he  has  his  own  library,  even  if  he  sells  it 
gaily  for  a  song  when  he  graduates  and  passes 
on  gratis  the  notes  with  which  he  has  enriched 
his  authors.  But  here  I  have  seen  good  stu- 
dents relying  even  for  Liddell  and  Scott  on  the 
library ;  or  content  with  the  horrible  small  edi- 
tion, which  is  an  even  greater  crime  and  greater 

I  knew  one  good  scholar  in  Oxford  who  did 
this,  and  wrote  out  unknown  words  on  slips  of 
paper  and  consigned  the  slips  to  his  pocket,  with 
a  view  to  consulting  L.  &  S.  when  he  happened 
next  to  be  visiting  a  rational  friend :  he  did  it 
solely  and  wholly  to  be  eccentric  and  for  para- 
dox sake,  just  as  he  also  enquired  one  day  in  the 
heat  of  summer  whether  his  friend  had  enjoyed 
football  that  afternoon.  He  had  his  reward,  the 
reputation  of  an  eccentric ;  he  lost  the  good  de- 
gree which  was  otherwise  his  natural  right,  and  a 
better  right  than  the  dubious  title  of  an  eccen- 
tric and  "an  intellectual":  intellectuals  have 
no  intelligence,  and  L.  &  S.  are  as  essential  to 
intelligent  study  of  the  Greeks  as  L.  S.  and  D. 
to  an  intelligent  use  of  life. 

A   wise  man  not   merely  demands  the  lai 
edition  nf  Liddell  &  Scott,  be  wants  three  copies 

of  it for  his  use  ;,t  college,  one  for  use  at 

home,   one   for  use    m    ins    summer      cottage 
Preighl  charges  forbid  the  incessant  transpo 
tion  of  this  ponderous  bul   essential  articli 
baggage.        I    aever    realised    learning    » 

heavy,"  said  a   witty   Irish   cabbj    t once 

on  one  of  the  i asions  on  which  I  wa 

over  much   not   to  duplicate  but    move  my  work 
ing  library. 

Obviouslj   the  same  explanation  as  before 
count  for  this  difference:  res  angusta,  but  also 
indifference  and  impatience  with  books. 

Now  I  know  all  that  may  be  said  against 
indifference  and  impatience  with  books. 
doubting  Dr.  Jowett  for  nothing.  "I  am  con- 
vinced as  much  time  is  waste, 1  in  reading  as  in 
anything,"  he  once  said.  No  doubt!  but  the 
answer  to  this  scepticism  is,  as  usual,  more 
scepticism.  Time  is  wasted  in  reading;  but 
time  is  wasted  no  less  in  business  meetings  and 
in  administration:  in  college  councils  and  r 
senate  meetings,  and  in  examinations  and  in 
other  forms  of  serving-  tables.  Happy  those 
gifted  spirits  who  can  employ  these  fruitless 
hours  in  drawing  caricatures  (as  I.  once  saw- 
Oscar  Wilde  doing-,  while  T  was  stniL'L'ling-  with 
a  Creek  prose  paper).  Happier  still  those  who 
can  employ  them  in  composing  Greek  and  Latin 
verses.  But  happy  in  humble  measure  even 
those  who  have  the  minor  gift,  which  has  some- 
times been  permitted  to  me.  of  passing  those 
hours  in  refreshing  sleep. 

Time  is  wasted  everywhere  and  in  every  way: 
but  even  desultory  reading-  often  brings  a  few 
words,  a  few  lines,  which  go  far  to  repay  the 
waste,  and  leave  a  sense  of  satisfaction  and 
literary  enjoyment. 

T  was  reading  for  example  the  other  day  a 
very  serious  and  somewhat  pacifist  journal, 
when  I  stumbled  across  this  phrase,  inserted 
only  as  an  awful  warning-,  but  calculated  to 
serve  the  other  purpose  of  literary  edification — 
"a  world  without  war  would  be  one  long  damned 
Sunday  afternoon  walk."  The  desultory  read- 
er sometimes  entertain  angels  unawares:  there 
is  a  world  of  personal  temperament,  even  of  na- 
tional character,  lit  up  and  illumined  by  that 
audacious  and  happy  cynicism. 

I  know  that  there  are  other  thing-s  still  to  be 
said  against  the  possession  of  books. 

When  I  contemplate  my  demise,  which  must 
necessarily  be  drawing  nearer.  T  shudder  for 
those  orphaned  babes  to  be  launched  on  an  un- 
kind world :  why  many  of  these  volumes  inter- 
leaved and  annotated  illegibly  from  head  to  foot, 
from  side  to  side  of  the  interleaving,  will  be  the 
only  proof  that  I  once  filled  a  chair :  and  when 



January,  1919. 

I  am  gone  and  the  Red  Cross  requests  them  for 
making  rags  and  bandages,  the  only  proof  of 
me  will  be  obscured  and  buried  in  bandages  and 
rags,  and  some  successor  in  the  chair  will  find 
perhaps  that  I  belonged  to  some  solar  myth, 
natural  to  the  history  of  the  University  of  To- 
ronto in  its  crude  beginnings. 

I  see  the  danger  and  can  do  nothing  to  avert 
it :  my  only  son  is  a  soldier  with  no  intelligence 
in  such  directions:  my  daughters  are  intelligent 
in  other  directions:  my  wife — why  every  good 
wife  is  impatient  of  a  scholar's  library,  and  pro- 
perly: she  has  more  reason  to  be  jealous  of 
them,  than  of  any  more  animated  flame  which 
ever  came  between  her  and  him,  and  shut  her 
out  of  a  wifely  paradise.  "We  all  know  in- 
stinctively, even  when  we  arc  talking  of  states- 
men, not  of  scholars,  that  Mr.  Asquith,  the  last 
of  the  reading  statesmen  of  England,  gives  no 
occasion  for  wifely  jealousy  of  the  kind  that  in- 
terests reporters  and  interviewers  of  the  socie- 
ty journals:  we  are  just  as  sure,  nevertheless, 
that  he  gives  occasion  for  the  other  jealousy, 
when  he  is  happy  in  his  library  and  curses  cau- 
cus meetings  and  cabinet  councils,  and  even  the 
Houses  of  Westminster  and  all  similar  triviali- 

This  is  a  serious  drawback  to  the  acquisition 
of  books  and  library,  that  they  come  to  nothing, 
and  are  shovelled  up  for  sixpence — if  not  into 
a  bloody  ditch — yet  into  a  useful  furnace.  But 
again  the  answer  to  the  doubt  and  the  demurral 
is  further  doubt.  So  is  life  itself  shovelled  up 
and  comes  to  nothing,  the  life  of  action,  not  less 
than  the  life  of  thought.  What  is  Bismarck's 
ghost  feeling  to-day  1  He  worked  for  a  long  life- 
time for  Germany:  he  succeeded  beyond  all 
other  men  apparently:  he  set  back  the 
hands  of  the  clock — a  feat  reputed  impossible 
by  the  Toronto  Globe  —  for  well  nigh  seventy- 
five  years,  and  now  it  is  all  ending  as  we  «ee 
to-day.  He  has  ruined  his  countrymen  by  his 
masterful  actions,  even  though  not  a  single  de- 
tail of  their  madness  and  their  fall  can  be  traced 
to  him,  even  though  he  set  himself  against  every 

detail,  so  far  as  he  could  anticipate  it.  But  the 
spirit — though  not  the  details — of  his  policy 
has  counted  and  has  undone  the  land  for  which 
he  sacrificed  everything,  his  good  conscience 
and  his  good  nature,  his  common-sense,  and  his 
intelligence.  He  would  have  been  a  much  more 
useful  German,  if  he  had  eschewed  national  am- 
bitions and  specialized — like  Mr.  Balfour — in 
theological  metaphysics,  or  like  Mr.  Gladstone 
— whom  he  so  scorned — in  vain  imaginations 
about  Homer.  Or,  again,  in  humbler  life — a 
Canadian  clears  the  bush  and  builds  a  shack, 
and  founds  a  home  and  laboiirs  with  his  hands 
till  he  is  too  tired  to  think  or  read :  but  the  set- 
tlement of  the  country  takes  another  line,  and 
within  twenty  years  the  house  is  falling  to 
pieces,  and  the  porcupines  camp  in  it  and  the 
bind-weed  binds  it  and  "action"  has  been 
checkmated  not  less  decisively  than  thought. 
The  net  results  of  life  cannot  be  measured  by 
such  external  standards:  or,  as  Aristotle  puts  it, 
to  do  nothing,  that  is  to  live  the  student's  life 
of  books  and  thought,  is  not  to  do  less,  sometimes 
it  is  to  do  more,  than  is  permitted  to  the  man  of 
action:  for  he  is  judged  by  external  results  and 
cannot  reject  this  standard  of  judgment,  and  the 
results  are  often  nil :  the  other  life  at  least  had 
reality,  even  intensity,  while  it  lasted  :  it  was 
autarkes,  sufficient  to  itself,  however  insuffi- 
cient from  that  social  point  of  view,  which 
rides  at  us  like  a  nightmare  at  the  present  mo- 
ment, as  though  we  had  no  individual  souls 
and  no  personal  ex:stence. 

I  have  strayed  far  from  the  Canadian  stu- 
dent and  his  impatience  with  books,  with  his- 
tory, with  the  past :  but  it  all  comes  down  to 
this,  that  he  is  too  unlike  the  German  and  the 
Frenchman  and  the  Russian  and  the  Italian; 
too  contemptuous  of  lofty  theory  and  serious 
reading;  even  more  indifferent  to  these  things 
than  the  English  student  whom  of  Europeans  he 
approaches  most  closely :  too  American.  He  may 
even  be  content  with  Walt  Whitman  for  litera- 
ture.. It  is  time  to  stop :  before  some  condem- 
nation even  more  severe  escape  my  reckless  pen. 

January,  1919. 

I  '  I  \    I/'/   I  \     /.wh*A  l/.IA 


The  Book  Agent: 

or  Why    Do   People  Buy    Books.? 


THE  ancient  Romans,  s..  I  have  been  ered 
ibly  informed,  had  a  currenl  Baying  which 
pan,  "Cur,  hominem  unius  libri;  Beware 
the  man  with  one  book."  'This  has  been  inter- 
preted bj  the  faulty  scholarship  of  to-daj  to 
imply  a  warning  against  the  superior  educa- 
tion nf  the  man  who  has  studied  only  one 
book,  but  has  studied  thai  book  well.  The 
meaning  was  really  quite  different.    The  motto 


simply  meant :  Beware  of  the  man  who  eomes 
into  your  office  with  one  book  under  his  arm ; 
in  other  words,  watch  out  for  the  book  agent." 
The  Roman  book  agent,  with  his  thin  black 
toga  and  his  muffler  round  his  neck,  was  no 
doubt  as  formidable  a  figure  as  his  lineal  de- 
scendant of  today.  He  came  into  Marcus  Tul- 
lius  Cicero's  office  just  as  he  does  into  yours 
or  mine.  He  walked  past  the  didascuh  and 
the  stylists  working  in  the  atrium  as  easily  as 

he  walks  pasl  the  stenographers  in  our  i  uter 
offices.  He  removed  his  muffler  with  the  same 
deliberation.  He  spread  ou1  a  papyrus  on  the 
desk,  ami  when  he  laid  one  lean  finger  as  em- 
phaticallj  upon  it  as  he  lays  it  to-daj  upon  an 
illustrated  prospectus,  and  said,  "I  am  offering 
here  a  proposition,"  the  same  shock  went 
through  Cicero  as  it  dotes  through  you  or  me. 
...  "This."  said  the  book  agent,  "is  a  set  of  Poly 
u  hius."    "I  do  not  want  it."  murmured 

t  licero.  "  We  are  practically  giving  this 
away."  said  the  agent.  "T  don't  care." 
Cicero  said  doggedly,  "I  don't 
it  and  T  won't  have  it.  and  you  can't 
make  me  take  it."  The  agent  turned 
over  his  papyrus  till  he  came  to  the 
picture  of  a  Creek  chariot.  Then  he 
to  k  Cicero's  head  in  his  hands  and 
twisted  it  into  position.  "Look."  he 
said  sternly.  Tn  spite  of  himself 
Cicero's  eyes  kindled  with  interest.  "Ts 
that  a  chariot?"  he  murmured.  "It 
is,"  said  the  agent.  "It  is  done  in 
parchment  by  our  new  graphite  pro- 
cess. The  illustrations  of  this  work 
are  alone  worth  the  price.  Would 
you  like  to  see  a  picture  of  a  trireme 
dune  in  red  ink?"  Cicero  looked  and 
was  lost.  Ten  minutes  later  the  agent 
walked  out  of  the  office  with  a  signa- 
ture from  Cicero  promising  to  pay 
monthly  instalments  for  seven  years, 
while  Cicero  sat  gazing  fixedly  at  the 
picture  of  a  trireme  till  one  of  his 
clerks  touched  him  on  the  shoulder  and 
recalled  him  to  life. 

Such  is.  and  such  has  been  since  the 
days  of  the  Roman,  the  art  of  the  book 
agent.     He  worked  it  then.     He  works 
it  still.     Nor  is  there  any  doubt  about 
it     that    the    art    by    which     he    -sells 
books  is  a  sort  of  hypnotism.  He  look-  the  busi- 
ness man  straight  in   the   eye   with   one  fore 
finger  pointed  directly  at  the  business  man's 
brain — or  the  place  where  it  was  before  the 
agent  came  into  the  office. — and  he  says  in  a 
deep  vibrating  voice,  "Have  you  read  Macau- 
lay's  History?" 

Xow  the  matter  of  Macaulay's  History  has 
been  for  twenty  years  the  vulnerable  point  in 
the  business  man's  intellect,  and  he  knows  it. 
For  twenty  years  he  has  meant  to  read  Macau- 



January,  1919. 

lay.  and  at  the  wards,  "Have  you  read  it?"  he 
falls  prone  on  his  desk,  his  face  buried  in  his 
hands.  The  book  agent  lays  the  History  be- 
side him,  signs  the  receipt  and  moves  out.  No 
one  dares  to  stop  him.  His  eye  is  turned  stern- 
ly upon  the  lady  stenographers.  If  they  move 
an  eyelash  he'll  sell  them  "How  to  Invest  Your 
Savings  and  Make  a  Million."  This,  as  they 
have  no  savings,  fascinates  them  always.  Nor 
can  the  doorkeeper  stop  him,  nor  the  elevator 
boy.  If  they  try  to,  the  agent  will  sell  them 
"The  Life  of  Ulysses  S.  Grant."  All  door- 
keepers, janitors  and  elevator  boys  reach  out 
instantly  for  "The  Life  of  Ulysses  S.  Grant," 
and  read  themselve  insensible  with  it,  sitting 
motionless  on  a  little  stool. 

The  book  agent  in  the  business  office  is  real- 
ly only  a  part  of  the  larger  and  unexplored 
phenomenon,  Hypnotism  in  Business.  I  am 
convinced  that  a  large  part  of  our  business 
transactions  are  effected  by  hypnotising  and 
being  hypnotised.  The  bond  dealer  and  the 
real  estate  man  are  merely  hypnotists  pos- 
sessed of  an  occult  power.  Had  they  been 
born  in  India  they  would  have  passed  for 
saints.  The  book  agent  is  but  a  humble  repre- 
sentative of  the  same  class.  Nor  is  it  only 
in  the  business  office  that  the  book  agent  is 
able  to  work  his  peculiar  hypnotic  trick.  It 
operates  equally  well  on  the  farms.  I  can 
distinctly  remember  from  my  country  child- 
hood the  spectacle  of  the  book  agent  driving 
with  his  horse  and  cutter,  his  muffler  wrapped 
about  his  long  neck,  and  his  head  moving  from 
side  to  side,  looking  for  farmers.  He  beck- 
oned the  farmer  inside  the  house.  The  farmer 
followed  him  from  the  barnyard  like  a  fas- 
cinated dove.  The  door  closed  upon  them.  Fif- 
teen minutes  later  the  agent  drove  away  with 
a  five-dollar  bill  added  to  his  collection,  and 
the  farmer  was  left  sitting  hunched  in  the 
kitchen  rocker  motionless,  with  "The  Polar 
and  Tropical  Worlds"  lying  unopened  on  his 
lap.  His  family  coming  in  on  such  a  man  of- 
ten thought  that  he  had  been  murdered.  But 
he  had  not. 

But  the  book  agent  of  to-day  no  longer 
deals  in  a  single  book.  Even  so  bulky  a  work 
as  "The  Polar  and  Tropical  Worlds."  which 
measured  14  inches  x  10  inches  x  5  inches,  and 
contained  700  cubic  inches  of  information,  is 
not  big  enough  for  up-to-date  business.  The 
ho  ik  that  the  agent  carries  now  is  a  mere  sam- 
ple, or  dummy,  and  represents  a  "set"  run- 
ning anywhere  from  twenty  volumes  to  a 

Experience  shows  that  a  shrewd  and  calcu- 
lating business  man  who  would  never  buy  one 

book,  taken  singly,  without  scrutinizing  its 
price  and  its  utility,  falls  entranced  at  the 
mere  aspect  of  a  "set"  of  them.  And  the  more 
sweeping  the  "set"  is,  the  more  centuries  it 
covers,  the  more  solid  thought  it  embodies  and 
the  higher  the  price  of  it,  the  more  easily  does 
the  man  "fall"  for  it.  The  psychology  in  the 
thing  is  this.  Every  man  is  at  heart  an  ego- 
tist. He  wishes — if  one  may  put  it  in  the 
plain  every-day  language  of  a  textbook  on 
psychology — "to  extend  his  personality  be- 
yond the  limits  of  his  identity."  So  when  he 
sees  a  glittering  array  of  books,  or  glittering 
illustrated  prospectus,  with  the  title  "The 
World's  Great  Thinkers  from  Bacon  to  Beelze- 
bub," he  is  seized  with  a  desire  to  include  the 
whole  thing  within  himself.  He  wants,  as  it 
were  ,to  swallow  it.  He  feels  that  if  he  reaches 
out  and  buys  that  set  of  books  he  will  incorpor- 
ate the  entire  mass  of  information  inside  him- 

The  book  agent,  aware  of  his  power,  unfolds 
the  prospectus  and  points  with  his  finger. 
"See,"  he  says.  "Bacon."  "Bacon,"  repeats 
the  business  man.  "Montesquieu,"  says  the 
agent,  still  pointing.  "Montesquieu,"  repeats 
the  business  man  in  a  daze.  "Spinoza,"  says 
the  agent  "Spinoza,"  murmurs  the  business 
man,  almost  in  a  trance.  "Swedenborg  and 
Occult  Philosophy,"  says  the  agent.  This  is 
the  coup  de  grace.  "Occult  Philosophy" 
catches  the  business  man  as  easily  as  the  "Life 
of  Ulysses  S.  Grant"  catches  the  elevator  boy. 
The  agent  slips  the  pen  into  his  hand  and  he 
signs,  still  hypnotised. 

Nor  does  the  hypnotism  readily  pass  off.  The 
business  man  receives  the  books  in  due  time 
at  his  home,  and  he  shows  them  to  his  wife, 
hypnotising  her.  "See,"  he  says,  "Spinoza," 
"Spinoza,"  she  repeats.  "And  look  at  this, 
Swedenborg  and  the  Occult  Philosophy." 
"Swedenborg,"  she  murmurs.  There  is  a  touch 
of  pride  in  both  of  them.  Let  the  neighbours 
look  to  it,  unless  they  also  buy  a  "set"  of  "The 
World's  Great  Thinkers."  The  business  man's 
wife  and  her  housemaid,  as  they  clean  up  the 
"Thinkers"  to  the  roar  of  a  vacuum  cleaner, 
like  to  feel  that  they  live  in  a  cultivated  home. 

T  have  named  the  business  man  as  the  typi- 
cal victim  not  through  any  malice  towards  him 
hut  as  the  mere  statement  of  a  fact.  He  is 
the  typical  victim.  The  professional  classes 
(the  lawyers  and  the  doctors)  are  much  hard- 
er. The  lawyer  will  perhaps  buy  an  'Encyclo- 
paedia of  Farming"  just  as  a  farmer  will  buy 
an  'Encyclopaedia  of  Law,"  and  a  doctor  will 
buy  a  book  called  "The  Horse."  just  as  a  liv- 
ery stable  keeper  will  buy  a  book  called  "The 

January,  191!). 

CANAD1  LA    BOOK  )M.\ 


Doctor."  But  this,  after  all,  is  small  busin 
For  the  sale  of  a  "History  of  Peru  in  Twenty 
Volumes  from  Atahuantepec  bo  Pocohontas," 
there  is  nothing  like  a  business  man,  prefer- 
ably a  director  of  one  of  our  great,  companies. 
This  man  has  in  his  palatial  home  a  room 
which  is  called  his  study,  where  he  plays 
poker.  A  well  bound  "History  of  Peru"  in 
twenty  volumes  of  gilt  and  leather  standing 
on  the  shelf  behind  the  dealer  gives  to  a  game 
of  poker  a  touch  of  dignity,  and — to  a  new 
player — a  feeling  of  security  that  is  worth  the 
price.  It  is  natural  indeed  for  the  entering 
guest  who  sees  his  host  sitting  in  a  great 
leather  chair  before  a  brass  fender,  in  a  room 
lined  to  the  ceiling  with  books,  to  feel  that  he 
is  in  the  presence  of  the  kind  of  cultivated 
scholar  who  would  scorn  to  lie  about  open- 
ing a  jackpot,  or  carry  an  extra  ace  under  the 

But  as  against  all  other  classes,  the  univer- 
sity professoriate  is  absolutely  immune  from 
the  attacks  of  the  book  agent.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  sell  a  book  to  a  professor.  As  well 
sell  cabbage  to  a  market  gardener.  I  have  my- 
self seen  a  whole  Faculty  Room  full  of  profes- 
sors dispersed  at  one  stroke  by  a  book  agent 
who  came  in  and  offered  to  give  them  a  one- 
dollar  dictionary  for  thirty-five  cents.  They 
knew  too  much.  Yet  if  the  agent  had  offered 
them  fifteen-cent  shares  in  an  oil  mine,  or 
debenture  stock,  at  four  cents,  in  a  salt  refin- 
ery, they  would  have  risen  to  it  like  brook 
trout  in  June. 

Nor  is  anything  that  has  been  said  above  to 
be  taken  to  mean  that  the  book  agent  is  in  any 
sense  a  faker  or  a  humbug  or  a  social  para- 
site of  no  use  to  the  world.     Quite  the  con- 

tra r\        An    accepted    doctrine    of   evolution 

bes  us  that  nothing  Burvi 
euliar  functions  in  Borne  way  fit  it  for  its  en- 
vironment.    Everything  baa  its  purpose,  and 
the  book  agent  has  his.     It  is  his  peculiar 
vice  to  society  thai  he  goes  aboul  inoculating 
people  with  the  idea  of  the  dignity  of  learning, 

the    majesty   of   the    written    word    and    the    BU 

iritj    of  the  things  of  the  mind  over  the 
brute  force  of  the  body.    Now  this  is  the 
tissue  by  means  of  which,  invisible  and  unper 
ceived,    our   socia]    fabric    holds   together.       A 

world  without  hooks  would  degenerate  into  a 
bear  garden.  Big  business  would  climb  to  the 
top  of  the  pole  and  snarl  its  lesser  fellows  into 
anarchy.     It  is  I ause  we  keep  up  the  pleasant 

pretence  that  their  are  other  things  in  the 
world  besides  money  and  the  grOBSer  - 
factions  which  it  commands  that  the  world 
spins  on  as  it  does— creaking  a  good  deal,  but 
still  moving.  The  business  man  holds  tight  to 
his  money  bags,  but  pays  his  homage  to  the 
power  of  art  and  letters  when  he  buys  his 
"History  of  Peru."  And  the  book  agent  who 
untwines  his  scarf  in  the  office  and  confronts 
the  business  man  in  his  chair  is,  if  he  but 
knew  it,  a  very  Daniel  of  enlightenment  in  the 
den  of  the  lions  of  greed. 

More  power  to  him  in  his  task.  And  more 
power  also  to  all  such  other  efforts  and  agen- 
cies as  are  applied,  directly  and  indirectly,  to- 
wards the  same  end.  and  especially  to  this 
present  venture  of  a  Canadian  Bookman  which. 
with  this  number,  puts  forth  its  earliest  leaves 
and  the  promise  of  its  later  fruit.  May  it  flour- 
ish, among  the  eager  scramble  of  our  com- 
merce, like  an  old-world  garden,  hidden  in  the 
heart  of  a  metropolis,  where  the  sounds  of  the 
street  are  stilled  in  a  sequestered  silence. 



January,  1919. 

Why  Neglect  Early  Canadians? 


SOME  months  ago.  in  a  newspaper  article 
about  a  selection  of  books  by  Canadian 
writers  made  for  the  Canadian  Society 
of  New  York  City,  it  was  stated  that  consider- 
able difficulty  had  been  experienced  in  mak- 
ing the  selection  owing  to  the  fact  that  while 
there  are  many  collectors  of  Canadiana — 
that  is,  books  about  or  relating  to  Canada — 
there  seemed  to  be  few,  if  any,  collectors  of 
Canadian  literature.  This  is  a  peculiar  fact, 
for  fart  it  undoubtedly  is.  particularly  when 
n  i^  considered  that  in  all  other  countries  col- 
lectors  of  native  literature — by  which  is  meant 
works  of  an  imaginative  character  as  distinct 
from  works  of  historical,  scientific  or  other 
more  or  less  material  character  --  are  num- 
erous. Take  the  United  States,  for  example, 
chiefly  because  it.  in  a  physical  sense,  is  the 
nearest  of  all  countries  to  as.  Here  collectors 
of  the  original  editions  of  the  work  of  native 
writers  abound  in  the  cities,  in  the  t  >wns  and 
elsewhere,  and  the  competition  for  the  more 
desirable  of  such  editions  has  led  to  results  ab- 
solutely astonishing.  For  instance.  Edgar 
Allan  Poe's  first  book.  '"Tamerlane  and  Other 
Poems  "  of  which  only  about  three  copies  are 
said  to  be  still  in  existence,  brought  $2,500  at 
auction  in  Xew  York  some  twenty  years  ago, 
and  if  another  copy  were  offered  to-day  it 
is  not  improbable  that  it  would  realize  $10,000 
or  more.  Then  the  copy  of  Poe's  second  book. 
"Al  Aaraff.  Tamerlane,  and  Minor  Poems," 
which  Poe  used  in  preparing  "The  Raven  and 
other  Poems."  brought  $2,900  at  the  same 
time,  ami  some  time  later  the  excessively  rare 
first  issue  of  his  "Murder  in  the  Rue  Morgue" 
sold  for  no  less  than  $3,800,  the  highest  price 
ever  paid  for  a  book  by  a  native  writer  of 
the  United  States.  And  Poe  is  not  the  only 
United  States  writer  whose  books'  bring  extra- 
ordinary prices,  for  some  years  ago  $2,200  was 
paid  for  what  was  said  to  be  a  unique  issue 
of  Longfellow's  "New  England  Tragedy." 
These  prices,  it  must  be  admitted,  stand  by 
themselves;  but  there  are  several  staore  at 
Least  of  books  by  these  and  other  writers,  such 

as  Irving,  Lowell,  Emerson.  Mark  Twain,  etc.. 
which  readily  bring  sums  running  into  three 
figures  when  offered  at  auction. 

Now  turn  to  Canada,  and  what  do  we  find? 
Is  there  a  single  book  other,  perhaps,  than 
historical  in  character  by  a  Canadian  which 
would  bring  so  much  as  $25  if  offered  at  auc- 
tion in  Montreal  or  Toronto  to-day?  So  far 
as  I  am  aware,  but  one  book  is  at  all  likely  to 
approximate  this  figure— "St.  Ursula's  Con- 
vent, or  The  Nun  of  Canada,"  which  can 
proudly  boast  of  being  the  first  Canadian 
novel — but  if  it  should  ever  do  so  it  would  be 
because  of  U.  S.  competition,  for  it  ranks  as 
one  of  the  desirable  items  of  early  American 
fiction,  a  line  of  collecting  which  many  col- 
lectors across  the  line  follow. 

But,  it  will  be  asked,  have  we  now,  or  have 
we  ever  had,  any  writers  in  this  country  whose 
books  are  likely  to  be  sought  after  as  the  U.S. 
collectors  seek  for  books  by  Poe.  Longfellow, 
etc.?  It  is,  of  course,  for  Father  Time  alone 
to  answer  that  question,  but  if  it  were  put  to 
me  I  should  not  hesitate  to  say  emphatically, 
"Yes."  We  may  not  have  produced  a  Poe  in 
this  country  so  far,  but  I  do  not  think  that  it 
will  be  denied  that  we  have  had,  and  now 
have,  writers  among  us  whose  work  will  not 
lose  by  comparison  with  the  best  that  is  being 
done  in  England  or  in  the  United  States. 

Of  course,  my  purpose  in  writing  in  this  way 
is  not  to  advocate  or  encourage  the  paying  of 
fancy  prices  for  first  or  other  rare  editions 
of  our  Canadian  writers.  What  I  wish  to  do 
is  to  stimulate  interest,  if  I  can,  in  these  writers 
by  urging  the  collection  of  their  books  upon 
those  who  have  felt  the  collecting  spirit.  The 
intellectual  standards  of  any  people  may  be 
best  judged  by  the  interest  it  displays  in  its 
own  literature,  and  how  better  can  the  exist- 
ence of  that  interest  be  evidenced  than  by  men 
here  and  there  busying  themselves  in  bringing 
together  the  books  which  enter  into  or  make  up 
that  literature? 

January,  L919. 

(    i  \  i/'/.i.v    BOOH  1/  I  \ 


Some  Canadian  Illustrators 


ILLUSTRATORS  in  Canada"  would  have 
condensed  this  article,  for  few  are  they  in 
number.  The  field  is  Limited  and  the  opportuni- 
ties are  restricted.  The  subjecl  of  "Canadian 
Illustrators,"  however,  offers  a  wider  field,  and 
even  scratching  the  surface  in  a  cursory  way  re 
veals  surprises.  Many  illustrators  who  havi 
tablished  themselves  in  the  United  States  are 
sou-,  of  this  Dominion. 

It  has  long  been  the  fashion,  among  those  who 
have  pride  in  Canada  and  curse  the  hope  that 
some  day  a  distinctive  national  art  and  litera- 
ture may  he  hers,  to  he  almost  angry  with  Bliss 

(ARTICLE  No.  1) 

and    "  Who's    Who 

heniL'  regarded  as  Amen 
can   artists.      A    few    names   that     immediately 
come  to  mind  are  Jaj   Hambidge,  Arthur  1 1 
big,   Arthur  William    Brown,    I'..  Cory   Kilverl 
John  Conacher,  II.  -I.  Mowat,  and  Norman  Price. 
The  late  Philip  Boileau  was  a  <  'anadian. 

Given  tin'  market,  Canada  would  quickly  de- 
velop illustrators,  though  modern  illustrative 
methods  utilized  by  newspapers  tin-eaten  to  roll 
the  aspiring  draughtsman  of  tie-  most  valuable 
training  he  could  acquire.  The  introduction  of 
the  photographer  and  the  perfection  of  the  half- 
tone plate  is.  excepl   for  special  purposes,  driv- 

-      -v 

Illustration  by  Miss  Mary  Essex. 

— By  courtesy   of   "The    Veteran.' 

Carman.  Roberts.  Stringer  and  a  few  other  wri- 
ters for  leaving  the  Dominion  and  establishing 
themselves  in  the  United  States.  It  was  a  sim- 
ple instance  of  going  to  the  market.  In  the  ease 
of  Canadian  illustrators  the  settlement  of  many 
in  the  Republic  seems  to  have  been  the  natural 
step  after  receiving  their  artistic  training  across 
the  border.  Associations  had  been  formed,  high 
art  is,  possibly  excepting  portraiture,  a  notor- 
iously poor  business,  and  illustration  was  a  mar- 
ketable product.  So  we  see  a  little  band  of  Can- 
adian illustrators  making  their  place  and  name 
away  from  home  and,  except  in  their  own  circle 

ing  the  black  and  white  draughtsman  from  the 
field.  The  cartoon  and  the  '•comic"  still  re- 
quire him  and  he  can  be  utilized  in  preparing 
the  "lay-out"— the  line  design  which  frequent- 
ly frames  a  group  of  half-tone  photographs  in 
newspapers  and  magazines.  How  valuable  is 
the  experience  gained  by  a  newspaper  artist  who 
aspires  to  serious  illustration  can  be  irathered 
from  the  personal  opinion  of  Charles  W.  Jeff- 
erys.  the  leading  illustrator  in  Canada.  "I 
worked  in  New  York  for  some  years  on  the  Art 
Staff  of  The  Herald  in  the  palmy  days  of  pen 
and  ink  drawing.     Though  the  work  was  exact- 



January,  1919. 

ing  and  strenuous,  I  count  the  experience  gain- 
ed there  as  most  valuable.  It  gave  me  a  know- 
ledge of  life  at  first  hand,  a  training  in  quick 
and  accurate  observation,  and  in  the  graphic 
expression  of  life  and  character  that  I  do  not 
think  I  could  have  got  in  any  other  way." 

The  occasion  will  produce  illustrators  in  Can- 
ada as  surely  as  it  has  done  in  Great  Britain 
and  on  the  Continent  where,  in  pre-war  days,  an 
abundance  of  illustrated  periodicals  offered  a 
wide  and  ready  market  for  work  meritorious 
and  otherwise.  As  a  magazine  and  book  pub- 
lishing centre  in  an  important  way  Canada  is 
as  yet  in  its  infancy,  and  the  opportunity  for 
a  Canadian  artist  to  illustrate  the  work  of  a 
kinsman  comes  so  rarely  as  to  be  something  of 
an  event.  Years  ago  such  a  chance  came  to  the 
late  Henri  Julien  when  Harper's  Magazine  pub- 
lished Louis  Frechette's  Canadian  folk-lore 
stories.  Julien,  who  excelled  in  depicting  the 
French-Canadian  habitant  in  his  native  sur- 
roundings— in  the  fields,  sugar  maple  groves, 
or  festive  jollifications — besides  his  illustrative 
work  as  chief  artist  on  the  Montreal  Star,  was 
able  to  utilize  his  knowledge  of  historical  events 
and  costume  in  the  Quebec  Tercentenary  num- 
ber of  the  Montreal  Standard. 

The  work  of  Canadian  illustrators  in  the  bulk 
is  marked  by  a  wholesome  spirit,  and,  as  a  rule, 
reflects  the  attitude  of  the  artist  towards  life. 
Fortunately,  too,  the  publishers  for  which  so 
many  Canadian  illustrators  do  work  issue  from 
their   presses    publications    aimed    to    enlighten 

and  entertain  readers  still  content  with  the  one- 
God-one-wife  standard  of  their  hardy  ancestors. 
The  macabre  is-  generally  absent,  and  who  shall 
say  we  are  the  losers  thereby? 

Charles  W.  Jefferys,  the  leading  illustrator 
working  in  Canada  today,  has  had  a  wide  and 
varied  experience,  and  a  long  list  of  illustrated 
books  to  his  credit.  Born  in  Kent,  England,  he 
confesses  to  being  caught  young  and  growing  up 
in  Canada.  The  way  was  not  always  smooth 
and  many  stages  which  must  have  proved  irk 
some  had  to  be  passed  before  he  arrived  at  his 
present  high  place.  Study  in  the  classes  of  the 
old  Toronto  Art  Students'  League,  and  instruc- 
tion in  the  studios  of  G.  A.  Reid  and  C.  M. 
Manly,  was  followed  by  that  most  valuable  edu- 
cation of  all — practical  work.  In  the  practice 
of  lithography,  commercial  advertising  design- 
ing, and  newspaper  illustration  he  "picked  up" 
most  of  his  art  education.  Then  came  his  work 
on  the  New  York  Herald.  As  special  artist  for 
that  paper  he  "covered"  some  important  as- 
signments— the  Pullman  strike,  Bryan  Conven- 
tion, and  Pan-American  Exposition  among  oth- 
ers. Eighteen  years  ago  he  returned  to  Canada 
resolving  to  express  something  of  its  life  and 
landscape.  This  period  has  not  been  without 
its  discouragements  and  Mr.  Jefferys  has  turned 
his  hand  to  many  kinds  of  art  work — illustrat- 
ing books,  magazines  and  newspapers,  design- 
ing for  advertising  purposes,  painting  in  oil  and 
water  color  and  teaching  drawing.  In  1900 
as  special  artist  of  the  Toronto  Globe  he  "cov- 
ered" the  Royal  Tour  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
of  Cornwall  and  York — the  present  King  and 
Queen.  For  several  years,  too,  he  gave  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  his  time  and  work  to  the  Toron- 
to Daily  Star.  Most  of 
t  li  e  leading  Canadian 
periodicals  have  printed 
his  work,  and  the  stu- 
dents in  the  schools  of 
Ontario  can  enjoy  his 
drawings   in   the   readers 

Slip  cover  by  R.  E.  Johnston,  for  "The  Suicide  of 
Monarchy,"  by  Baron  de  Schelking. 



CAS  I/'/  i  \    BOOK  1/  I  \ 


now  in  use.  <  Canadian  history  iii  particular  has 
interested  him  and  man}  of  his  illustrations 
have  deall  with  Hi.'  life  of  the  pasl  in  <  !anada. 
This  sympathy  with  the  past   is  indicated  bj 

the  titles  lit'  some  of  the  I ks  he  has  illustrated  : 

Wacousta,  A  Tale  of  the  Pontiac  Conspiracy,  by 
.Major  Richardson;  Brock  by  YV.  1,'.  Nursey; 
Tecumseh,  by  N.  S.  Qurd;  Uncle  .inn's  tana 
diaii  Nursery  Rhymes,  by  David  Boyle;  'The 
.Makers  of  Canada,  10  volumes;  Madeleine  de 
Vercheres,  by  A.  (i.  Doughty;  The  Chronicles 
of  Canada,  32  volumes;  and  <'M  .Man  Savarin, 
by  E.  W.  Thomson. 

.Mr.   Jefferys    has   shown    practical    interest    in 
matters  artistic.      He   was  one  of  the   founders 

of   The    Arts  and    Letters   Club  of   Toronto,   ami 

of  the  Society  of  Graphic  Art,     He  is  an  a 
ciate  of  the  Royal  Canadian  Academj  of  Arts, 

president   of  the  Ontario  Societ)    of   Artists,  anil 

instructor    in    free  hand   drawing    and     watei 
color  in  the  Department  of  Architecture  in  the 

Universitj    Of  Toronto.      Por  some  years   he   has 

been  of  the  Fine  Arts  i  lommissionera  of  the 

Canadian   National    Exhibition,  and   a   member 
of  the  Council  of  the    Toronto    Art    Museum, 

'< I  composition  and  clean  rigorous  virile  line 

characterize    his    pen    ami    ink    illustrations. 

John  Sloan  Gordon,  although  horn  in  Brant- 
ford,  can  be  counted  a  Hamilton  artist  as  he 
settled  iii  the  "Ambitious  City"  when  nine 
months  old.  At  sixteen  he  was  employed  in  a 
railwaj  office  and  three  years  later  was  able 
to  develop  his  taste  for  drawing  in  the  Art  De- 
partment of  the  Howe}]  Lithographing  Com- 
pany, and  by  attending  the  nighl  classes  of  the 
Hamilton  Art  School.  Later  he  opened  a  studio 
and  by  painting  watercolors  of  a  popular 
sort,  which  found  a  fairly  ready  sale,  was 
enabled  in  1895  to  go  to 
Paris,  where  he  studied 
drawing  at  Julien's  and 
under  i  onstant  and  Lau- 
rens. After  a  stay  in 
London.  Edinburgh  and 
Glasgow,  lie  returned  to 
Canada  in  1897,  and  re- 
suming life  in  Hamilton 
he  turned  his  energies  to 
designing  book  covers. 
illustrations  for  the  Can- 
adian     Magazine,      the 

Slip  cover  by  R.  E.  Johnston,  for  "The  Suicide  of 
Monarchy, ' '  by  Baron  de  Schelking. 



January,  1919. 

Christmas  issues  of  the  Toronto  Globe,  and 
decorative  drawings  for  Eraser's  books  pub- 
lished by  Charles  Scribner.  lie  illustrated  "The 
Master  of  Life,"  by  W.  D.  Lighthall,  K.C.,  of 
Montreal.  Mr.  Gordon,  who  is  a  member  of  the 
Ontario  Society  of  Artists,  is  head  of  the  Art 
Department  of  the  Hamilton  Technical  School. 

F.  S.  Coburn,  probably  best  known  by  his 
illustrations  to  the  late  Dr.  Drummond's  "Habi- 
tant" and  other  dialect  poems  dealing  with 
French-Canadians,  was  born  at  Upper  Mel- 
bourne, Que.,  and  studied  in  Montreal,  Berlin, 
Prance,  London,  and  New  York.  As  a  painter 
he  is  well  known.  He  has  illustrated  the  works 
of  Dickens,  Edgar  Allan  Poe,  Washington  Irv- 
ing. He  has  probably  been  happiest  in  his  draw- 
ings of  the  habitant, 
and  the  illustrations 
to  Frechett  e  's 
"  Christ  m  a  S  in 
K  re  n  c  h  Canada" 
were  done  by  him. 

The  work  of  Fer- 
gus Kyle,  Toronto, 
has  appeared  in  the 
Canadian  Magazine 
and  the  Courier.  He 
is  better  known  as  a 
cartoonist.  He  is  at 
present  overseas  with 
an  artillery  unit. 

E.  J.  Dinsmore  is 
a  Torontonian,  and 
his  advance  in  the 
field  of  illustration 
has  been  rapid  —  his 
first  published  draw- 
ing having  appeared 
since  the  war  began. 
He  studied  at  the 
Central  Ontario 
School  of  Art,  and 
the  Pennsylvania 
Academy  of  Art  and 
Design,  and  has 
worked  under  such 
well  known  artists  as 
C.  M.  Manly,  Daniel 
Garber,  Joseph  Pear- 
son and  Henry  Mc- 
( 'arter.  Several  prizes 
and  scholarships  went 
to  him  during  his 
student  days.  Fond  of  travel,  he  has 
seen  much  of  America  and  Europe,  and  was 
in  Holland  when  the  war  broke  out.  Mr. 
Dinsmore's  work  now  appears  continuously  in 
three  Canadian  publications — Maclean's  Maga- 
zine, Canadian  Home  Journal,  and  Canada 
Weekly.  His  taste  in  art  runs  to  the  work  of 
Brangwyn,  Crisp,  Sorolla  y  Bastida,  Zuloaga, 
Degas,  Steinlen,  and  Pennell,  though  the  in- 
fluence of  any  of  these  artists  is  not  apparent 
in  his  illustrative  work  which  is  done  in  black 
and  white  wash.  Tramping,  paddling,  and  sail- 
ing an-  Mr.  Dinsmore's  favorite  pleasure  pur- 
suits, a  taste  as  thoroughly  and  enthusiastically 
shared  bv  his  wife. 

Illustration  by  Arthur  Heming,  for  "The  Cow 
Puncher, "  by  K.  J.  C.  Stead. 

H.  W.  Cooper,  who  went  overseas  with  the 
Canadian  Army  Service  Corps,  and  is  now  at- 
tached to  the  Intelligence  Branch  of  the  Can- 
adian forces  in  France,  though  an  Englishman 
by  birth,  worked  several  years  in  Toronto.  His 
clever  and  interesting  pen  sketches  of  life  at 
the  front,  accompanied  by  sprightly  written 
comment,  have  appeared  in  recent  issues  of 

T.  G.  Greene  has  specialized  in  illustrating 
stories  of  rural  Ontario  life.  His  work  in  this 
connection  displays  knowledge  and  sympathy. 
These  illustrations  have  appeared  in  the  Courier 
and  Presbyterian  publications. 

The  drawiugs  of  children  by  Miss  Maud  Mc- 
Laren are  sympathetic  in  character.    Her  work, 

which  appears  in  the 
Canadian  Magazine, 
the  Canadian  Home 
Journal,  and  Every- 
woman  's  World, 
shows  a  strong  sense 
of  decorative  compo- 

Miss  Estelle  Kerr 
is  a  writer-illustrator 
who  has  contributed 
to  the  Canadian  Mag- 
azine and  the  Cour- 
ier. She  studied  at 
the  Art  Students' 
League,  New  York, 
and  in  Paris,  Switz- 
erland, Italy  and 
Holland.  As  a  paint- 
er, landscapes  and 
portraits  have  spe- 
cially interested  her. 
"Little  Sam  of  Vol- 
endam, "  a  book  of 
rhymes  and  pictures, 
she  published  in  1908. 
Miss  Kerr  is  now  ov- 
erseas engaged  in 
war  work. 

K.  E.  Johnston  is 
another  Toronto  ar- 
tist who  is  forging  to 
the  front  in  the  field 
of  illustration.  Born 
in  the  Queen  City  in 
1885  he  put  in  three 
or   four   vears   woi'k- 

ing  at  almost  anything,  then  studied  drawing 
under  William  Cruickshank,  and  at  19  serious- 
ly engaged  in  designing  for  commercial  pur- 
poses, and  did  illustrating  for  various  Canadian 
magazines.  Then  followed  five  years  in  Lon- 
don where  he  studied  under  J.  Walter  Sick- 
ert,  pupil  of  Whistler  and  a  leading  art  critic, 
and  at  the  Polytechnic.  While  he  did  some  il- 
lustrations for  light  fiction  his  time  in  London 
was  principally  occupied  with  advertising  work. 
Eighteen  months  before  the  outbreak  of  the 
war  he  returned  to  Canada  and  joined  the  art 
staff  of  Toronto  Saturday  Night.  A  book- 
jacket  for  Baron  de  Schelking's  "Suicide  of 
Monarchy"  is  one  of  the  most  effective  designs 

January,  1919. 

C  I  \  I/'/  l  \    BOOK  M  I  \ 

he  has  done  since  his  return.    At  presenl  In-  has 

under  contemplation  the  illustrati I'  a  I k 

dt'  humorous  essays  lis  a  well  known  Canadian 

Dorothy  Stevens,  whose  etchings  of  Continenl 
al  scenes  have  been  reproduced  iirthe  Canadian 
Magazine,  is  well  known  as  an  exponenl  of  that 
medium  and  also  as  a  painter.  She  is  a  member 
of  the  Chicago  Society  of  Etchers,  ami  a  win 
ner  of  the  Royal  Canadian  Academj  travelling 
scholarship.  She  studied  m  Toronto  and  Paris. 
Two  of  her  prints  have  been  acquired  for  the 
Canadian  National  Gallery,  Ottawa. 

.Marguerite  Puller  Allan  is  a  .Montrealer  and 
a  student  of  the  Art  Association  of  Montreal 
classes  directed  by  .Mr.  William  Brymner, 
C.M.G.,  R.C.A.,  past  President  of  the  Royal 
■Canadian  Academy.  She  continued  her  train 
in<*  at  the  Art  Students'  League,  New  York, 
and  the  Art  Institute  of  Boston,  and  in  Canada. 
until  recently,  has  been  best  known  as  a  painter. 
Mrs.  Allan  has  contributed  verses  and  illustra- 
tions of  interest  to  children  to  St.  Nicholas  and 
the  Youth's  Companion.  Recently  John  Lane 
published  "The  Rhyme  Garden."  written  and 
illustrated  by  her.  Quaint  composition  and  the 
effective  employment  of  black  and  white  masses 
in  a  decorative  way  characterize  the  drawings 
of  this  volume. 

■Mi-    Vlai  garel  Marj   I     U  tic  last  tun 

names  grace  lei  drawings)  was  born  in  Toronto 
and  commenced  her  training  at  the  A rt  School 
of  the  Albright  An  Gallerj  in  Buffalo,  where 
her  teachers  were  Marj  Coxe,  Ernest  Posbery, 
ami  Urquharl  Wilcox.  While  there  she  won  a 
scholarship  to  the  Art  Students'  League  in  New 
Fork  mi,  of  eight  given  by  that  school 
throughout  the  United  States.  Here  she  stud 
ied  portrait  painting  under  William  M.  Chase, 
and  drawing  under  Frank  Vincent  DuMond, 
Kenneth  Hayes  Miller  and  Eugene  Speicher. 
Natural  talent  and  industry  were  again  reward 
ed  with  a  scholarship  in  the  Life  chiss.  another 
in  the  Sketch  class,  ami  honorable  mention  in 
the  Chase  Portrait  Class.  Her  published  work 
has  appeared  in  the  <  lanadian  Home  Journal, 
the  Canadian  Magazine,  Everywoman's  World. 
the  Canadian  Courier,  Canadian  Poultry  Jour 
nal.  By-Water  Magazine  and  the  Veteran.    Am 

mi-    her    illustrated   stories    were   a    serial.   "The 
Magpie's  .Vest."  by   Isabel   Patterson,  and   two 
\>\   Arthur  Stringer.     In  the  Dominion  Govern 
ment's  Victorj   I, nan  Poster  Competition  si  ■ 

ceived  one  of  the  prizes.     Miss   F.ssex   is  ;,   mem- 
be!-  of   the   Art    students'    League,   and   of   the 
Three  Arts  Club,  both  New  York  bodies. 
tT<>  h,  Continued. 


Illustration   by   Chas.   W.   Jefferys,    from    "Old   Man 
Savarin"    (C.    W.    Thompson). 



January,  1919. 

Rhymes  With  and  Without  Reason 

By  J.  M.  GIBBON 

POETRY,"  said  Don  Marquis  once  in  his 
column  in  the  New  York  Sun,  "Poetry 
with  us  is  a  business;  it  takes  time,  muscular 
effort,  nervous  energy  and,  sometimes,  thought 
to  produce  a  poem."'    In  the  same  vein  he  said, 

Poetry  is  something  we  once  got  paid 

A  dollar  a  line  for; 

But  we're  not  going  to  tell  you  the  name 

Of  the  Magazine; 

We're  saving  it. 

A  third  of  his  definitions  was 

Poetry  is  something  Amy  Lowell  says 
Carl  Sandburg  writes. 

While  in  a  more  serious  mood  he  gave  this  defi- 
nition : 

Poetry  is  the  clinking  together  of  two  unex- 
pected coins 
In  the  shabby  pocket  of  life. 

With  airy  definitions  such  as  these  in  mind, 
the  classic  definition  of  Theodore  Watts-Dunton 
in  an  old  edition  of  the  Encyclopaedia  Britan- 
nica  seems  elephantine.  "Poetry,"  he  says  (I 
quote  from  memory), "is  the  concrete  and  artis- 
tic expression  of  the  human  mind  in  emotional 
and  rhythmical  language."  Ponderous,  you 
will  say,  and  yet  there  are  those  who  take  poetry 
seriously,  to  whom  poetry  represents  the  sup- 
reme rendering  of  beautiful  thoughts. 

They  are  not  in  the  majority,  I  fear — other- 
wise poverty  and  poetry  would  not  so  often  go 
hand  in  hand.  To  quote  Don  Marquis  again, 
"Publishing  a  volume  of  verse  is  like  dropping 
a  rose  petal  down  the  Grand  Canyon  and  wait- 
ing to  hear  the  echo." 

Poverty,  however,  has  not  kept  the  poet  from 
singing —  never  indeed  were  poets  so  numerous 
and  so  prolific  as  today.  "Poets,"  says  one 
editor,  "seem  as  numerous  as  sparrows  through 
the  cool  sunshine,  and  almost  as  quarrelsome." 
Their  name  indeed  is  legion.  A  hundred  of 
them  are  represented  in  the  Anthology  of  "The 
New  Poetry,"  edited  by  Harriet  Munroe  and 
Aliee  Corbin  Henderson,  the  editors  of  the  Chi- 
•   magazine   called   "Poetry."   and   yet  this 

anthology  omits  many  familiar  names  —  Law- 
rence Binyon,  Katherine  Tynan,  Francis  Thomp- 
son, Bliss  Carman  and  Alan  Seeger,  for  instance. 
These  hundred  who  are  apparently  the  elect  are 
responsible  for  over  two  hundred  volumes  quot- 
ed in  the  bibliography  and  for  vast  quantities  of 
stray  verse  scattered  through  innumerable  mag- 
azines. When  the  editors  of  ' '  Poetry ' '  not  very 
long  ago  asked  for  a  poem  on  a  certain  subject, 
over  seven  hundred  manuscripts  came  in  re- 
sponse through  the  mails. 

What  is  the  reason  for  this  apparently  ir- 
repressible output?  Is  it  because,  as  Don  Mar- 
quis faintly  insinuates,  there  are  magazines  that 
pay  a  dollar  a  line,  or  is  it  because  the  human 
race — particularly  the  race  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic — is  growing  more  imaginative,  more 
idealistic,  more  sensitive  to  music  of  words  ?  Or 
is  it — and  this  is  one  of  the  thoughts  which 
have  come  from  recent  reading — is  it  because 
the  discovery  or  re-discovery  of  "free  verse" 
removed  the  barriers  of  rhyme  and  let  in  the 
multitude?  Are  there  so  many  poets  today 
because  poetry,  now  that  it  may  be  rhymeless 
and  irregular  in  rhythm  and  form,  looks  easier 
to  write? 

Rhythm  and  quantities,  indeed,  though  they 
may  unconseio\isly  tickle  the  ear,  are  not  very 
extensively  understanded  of  the  people.  "The 
public,"  says  Richard  le  Gallienne,  "is  a  good 
deal  like  a  pretty  girl  I  was  talking  to  the  other 
day.  'Of  course,'  I  said  to  her  'you  know  what 
hexameters  are,  don't  you?'  'Sure,'  she  re- 
plied, 'I  had  a  ride  in  one  the  other  day  through 
the  Park.'  " 

Yet  it  is  only  fair  to  say  that  the  leaders  in 
the  free  verse  movement  are  scholarly  poets — 
Ezra  Pound,  for  instance,  or  Richard  Alding- 
ton— familiar  in  the  original  with  the  literature 
of  Greece,  which  indeed  in  the  choruses  of 
Aeschylus  and  Sophocles  provides  the  irrefut- 
able precedent.  Aldington  belongs  to  thfe 
group  known  as  Imagists,  whose  creed  is  to 
use    the   language   of   common    speech    but    to 

January.  1919. 

OANADIAX    BOOR  i/.l  \ 


employ  always  the  exact  word,  not  the 
merely  decorative  word;  to  create  new 
rhythms  as  the  expression  of  new  words;  to 
allow  absolute  freedom  in  the  choice  of  sub 
ject;  to  present  an  image  rendering  particulars 
exactly  and  not  dealing  in  generalities,  however 
magnificent  and  sonorous;  to  produce  poetry 
that  is  hard  and  clear,  never  blurred  nor  indefi- 
nite ;  to  be  concentrated. 

Typical  is  Aldington's  "Choricos,"  with  the 

0  Death, 

Thou  art  an  healing  wind 

That  blowest  over  white  flowers 

A-tremble  with   dew; 

■Thou  art  a  wind  flowing 

Over  long  leagues  of  lonely  sea; 

Thou  art  the  dusk  and  the  fragrance; 

Thou  art  the  lips  of  love  mournfully  smiling; 

Thou  art  the  pale  peace  of  one 

Satiate  with  old  desires; 

Thou  art  the  silence  of  beauty, 

And  we  look  no  more  for  the  morning; 

We  yearn  no  more  for  the  sun, 

Since  with  thy  white  hands, 


Thou  crownest  us  with  the  pallid  chaplets, 

The  slim  colorless  poppies 

Which  in  thy  garden  alone 

Softly  thou  gatherest. 

Ezra  Pound,  in  spite  of  his  eccentricities  and 
egoism  and  postures,  has  a  lyric  quality  of  high 
order.  Here  is  "The  Return,"  descriptive  of 
the  Furies  and  just  as  Greek  as  could  be: — 

See,  they  return;  ah.  see  the  tentative 
Movements,  and  the  slow  feet, 
The  trouble  in  the  pace  and  the  uncertain 
Wavering ! 

See,  they  return,  one,  and  by  one, 
With  fear,   as  half-awakened; 
As  if  the  snow  should  hesitate 
And  murmur  in  the  wind, 

and  half  turn  back, 
These  were  the  " Wing 'd-with- Awe," 


Gods  of  that  winged  shoe! 
With  them  the  silver  hounds, 

sniffing  the  trace  of  air! 

Haie !  Haie ! 

These  were  the  swift  to  harry; 
These  the  keen-scented; 
These  were  the  souls  of  blood. 

Slow  on  the  leash 

pallid  the  leash-men ! 

That,  you  will  say,  is  a  Greek  subject,  but  here 
is  a  lyric  on  New  York  which  Sappho  might  have 
written : 

My  City,  my  beloved,  my  white ! 

Ah  slender, 
Listen !    Listen  to  me,  and  I  will  breathe  into 

thee  a  soul. 
Delicately  upon  the  reed,  attend  me ! 

do  I  know  thai  I  owi  mad, 
Fur  In  it  an  ti  null m,i  peoplt  surly  with  tra\ 
Then  is  no  maid, 
Neither  could  I  play  upon  any  reed  if  I  had 

My  f'ity,  my  beloved, 

Thou  art  a  maid  with  do  brea 

Thou  art  Blender  as  a  silver  r I, 

Listen  to  me,  attend  me  I 

And  I  will  breat  lie  into  thee  a  soul, 

And  thou  shalt  live  for  ever. 

Ezra  Pound  lias  given  a  new  flair  to  the  i 
gram,  as  for  instance  in  "The  Garden": 

Like  a  skein  of  loose  silk  blown  against  a  wall 
She  walks  by  the  railing  of  a  path  in  Kensing- 
ton Gardens, 
And  she  is  dying  piece  meal  of  a  sort  of  emo- 
tional anaemia. 

And  round  about  there  is  a  rabble 

Of  the  filthy,  sturdy,  unkillable  infants  of  the 

very  poor. 
They  shall  inherit  the  earth. 

In  her  is  the  end  of  breeding. 

Her  boredom  is  exquisite  and  excessive. 

She  would  like  some  one  to  speak  \o  her, 
And  is  almost  afraid  that  I  will  commit  that 

Born  of  Greek  inspiration  also  is  that  volume 
of  free  verse  poems  which  is  perhaps  the  only 
instance  in  recent  years  of  poetry  becoming  a 
best  seller— I  refer  to  the  "Spoon  River  Anth- 
ology." The  title  is,  I  take  it.  an  admission  of 
the  debt  the  poet  owes  to  the  Sepulchral  Epi- 
grams of  the  Greek  Anthology,  numbers  of 
which  have  that  ironic  vein  which  is  the  keynote 
of  their  Spoon  River  offspring.  Edgar  Lee 
Masters,  of  course,  has  created  an  entirely  new 
and  original  work — has  merely  taken  an  old 
idea  and  applied  it  with  modern  methods,  and 
with  admirable  skill  and  breadth  of  vision.  One 
wishes  that  in  his  later  poems  he  had  attained 
the  same  heights.  Unfortunately  he  seems  to 
be  concerned  now  more  with  quantity  than 
quality,  and  is  endeavoring  to  prove  to  the  very 
prolific  Miss  Amy  Lowell  that  he  can  write  more 
verse  per  month  than  she. 

Although  free  verse  or  vers  libre,  the  unrhyni- 
ed  verse  with  lines  of  irregular  length,  is  gen- 
erally taken  to  be  a  modern  movement,  it  is  more 
strictly  a  revival.  Rhyme  is  a  comparatively 
recent  invention — barely  known  before  the  tenth 
century  and  not  accepted  into  English  litera- 
ture till  the  days  of  Chaucer.  But  most  re- 
vivals are  due  to  intense  emotion  which  bursts 
the  bonds  of  moribund  rite  and  tradition,  and 
the  revival  of  free  verse  is  no  exception  to  the 
rule.  It  is  the  expression  in  literature  of  the 
same  spirit  of  unrest  which  has  introduced  im- 



January,  1919. 

pressionism  into  painting,  flower  masses  into  the 

old  formal  garden,   and    Debussy,    Strauss  and 
Scriabine  into  music 

Rhyme  was  definitely  established  as  a  suit- 
able form  for  English  verse  by  Chaucer.  It 
had  been  used  before,  but  never  so  happily. 
Two  centuries  later  it  had  become  so  popular 
that  it  was  even  considered  vulgar,  and  some 
of  the  more  accomplished  poets  in  the  days  of 
Elizabeth  reacted  into  blank  verse. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  rhyme  came  into 
fashion  again,  so  much  so  that  Dryden  in  his 
"Defence  of  Poetry"  could  say,  "Blank  verse 
is  acknowledged  to  be  too  low  for  a  poem. ' '  The 
royalist  rhymesters  of  his  day  were  certainly 
accomplished — daintiest  of  all  being  Robert 
Herrick,  as  for  instance  in  "To  Daffodils": 

We  have  short  time  to  stay,  as  you; 

We  have  as  short  a  spring; 
As  quick  a  growth  to  meet  decay, 

As  you,  or  any  thing. 
We  die 

As  your  hours   do,   and   dry 

Like  to  the  summer's  rain; 
Or  as  the  pearls  of  morning's  dew. 

Ne'er  to  be  found  again. 

But  for  150  years  after  Dryden  rhyme  and 
rhythm  became  so  formal  and  conventional  that 
poetic  expression  was  stifled,  the  truly  lyric 
note  being  almost  confined  to  the  less  sophisti- 
cated poets  of  Scotland. 

The  spirit  which  came  into  literature  about 
the  time  of  the  French  Revolution  broke  down 
this  stiff  conventionality — and  the  nineteenth 
century  opens  with  more  elastic  metres.  Words- 
worth, Byron,  Shelley  and  Keats  rang  changes  on 
the  old  iambic  pentameter,  Byron  in  particu- 
lar reverting  to  the  more  musical,  if  more  in- 
tricate Spencerian  stanza,  Wordsworth  brows- 
ing around  in  blank  verse  or  sonnet  form,  while 
Shelley  wove  rhyme  patterns  of  his  own,  intro- 
ducing anapaestic   and   dactyllic   measures. 

English  metre  became  still  more  elastic  in 
the  hands  of  the  Victorians — Roberl  and  Eliza- 
beth Browning,  Swinburne,  Dante  and  Christina 
Rossetti,  William  Morris,  Matthew  Arnold  and 
Tennyson,  while  a  distinctive  rhythm  was 
used  by  George  Meredith  in  his  "Love  in  the 
Valley,"  a  rhythm  which  ignores  the  old  tum- 
ti-tum  measure,  and  while  using  a  classical 
metre  follows  the  stress  and  rests  anil  time  in- 
tervals of  natural  speech: 

Under  yonder   beech-tree  single  on  the  green- 
-  Couched  with  her  arms  behind  her  golden 

Knees  and  tresses  folded  to  slip  and  ripple  idly. 

Lies  my  young  love  sleeping  in  the  shade. 
Had  1  the  heart  to  slide  an  arm  beneath  her, 
Press  her  parting  lips  as  her  waist  I  gath- 
er slow, 
Waking  in  amazement  she  could  not  but  em- 
brace me : 
Then  would  she  hold  me  and  never  let  me 

The  American  poets  of  that  time  were  more 
or  less  mild  echoes  of  their  English  contempor- 
aries until  Walt  Whitman  sent  an  electric  shock 
through  the  world  of  rhymes  with  his  "Leaves 
of  Grass," 

,  Nowadays,  except  to  Bostonians  and  others 
of  that  kind  who  take  American  literature  of  the 
19th  century  seriously,  Walt  Whitman  is  too 
often  a  verbose  old  man  whose  long-winded  lines 
are  a  useful  soporific  just  before  turning  out 
the  lights,  but  in  his  time  he  certainly  did  good 
by  setting  poets  a-thinking,  and  like  the  cur- 
ate's egg  he  is  excellent  in  parts.  There  are 
indeed  some  who  claim  that  as  a  sleep  inducer 
Walt  Whitman  must  yield  place  to  that  other 
darling  of  the  Bostonian,  Sir  Rabindranath 

Rhyme  was  shocked,  but  it  was  not  killed, 
and  the  poetry  of  the  late  nineteenth  and  early 
twentieth  centuries  was  still  predominantly 
rhymed.  Much  of  that  rhyming  was  of  high 
technical  skill,  for  the  English  were  becoming 
a  more  musical  nation,  more  sensitive  to  the 
niceties  of  metrical  harmony. 

Now  if  all  English  verse  in  rhyme  had  been 
written  with  equal  skill,  there  might  have  been 
no  movement  in  favor  of  vers  libre.  But  rhyme 
in  less  inspired  poets  has  led  to  inversions  of 
phrase  which  disturb  the  natural  sequence  of 
thought,  it  encourages  the  use  of  obsolete  phrases 
used  only  because  they  easily  rhyme — such  as 
meseems,  bedight,  forsooth,  and  the  like — it  re- 
sults in  artificial  expression,  it  has  been  re- 
sponsible for  doggerel-writers  like  Longfellow 
or  the  confused  involutions  of  a  thousand  Son- 

Hence  a  new  school  of  poets  which  declares 
"Away  with  rhyme! — Let  us  express  our  emo- 
tions without  this  fetter,  in  natural  language  of 
our  own  time,  with  rhythm  if  you  please,  but 
not  necessarily  in  lines  of  regular  length.  Let 
us  consider  the  content  rather  than  the  form  of 
our  poetry." 

"There  must,"  says  Ezra  Pound,  "be  no  book 
words,  no  periphrases,  no  inversions.  There 
must  be  no  cliches,  set  phrases,  stereotyped, 
journalese — no  straddled  adjectives  (as  'addled 
mosses  dank') — nothing  that  you  couldn't  in 
some  circumstance,  in  the  stress  of  emotion,  say. 
Every    literaryism,    every    book     word     fritters 

January,  L919, 

CA  \  \l>l  l.\    BOOh  IMA 


auav  a  scrap  of  the  reader's  patience,  a  scrap  of 
his  sense  of  your  sincerity.  When  our  really 
feels  and  thinks,  one  stammers  with  simple 
speech."    Elsewhere  he  gives  as  his  ideals: 

1.    Direct  treatment. 

'2.  Use  absolutely  no  word  that  does  not 
contribute  to  the  presentation — use  no 
superfluous  word,  no  adjective  which 
does  not  reveal  something.  Avoid  ab- 

3.  As  regards  rhythm,  compose  in  the  se- 
quence of  the  musical  phrase,  not  in  se- 
quence of  a  metronome.  The  rhythm  must 
correspond  exactly  to  the  emotion  or 
shade  or  emotion  to  be  expressed.  Your 
rhythm  structure  should  not  destroy  the 
shape  of  your  words  or  their  natural 
sound  or  their  meaning. 

To  illustrate  what  this  prophet  of  free  verse 
means,  take  the  23rd  Psalm.  The  metrical  ver- 
sion used  in  the  Scots  Kirk  is  rhymed  and  runs: 

The   Lord's   my   Shepherd;   I'll  not  want. 

He  makes  me  down  to  lie 

In  pastures  green ;  he  leadeth  me 

The  quiet  waters  by. 

The  Authorised  Version  has  no  inversions,  such 
as  "down  to  lie,"  "pastures  green,"  Quiet  wa- 
ters by,"  but  follows  the  natural  sequence  of 
thought.  Its  lines  are  of  irregular  length,  but 
who  will  say  it  has  not  just  as  much  claim  to 
be  called  poetry?  At  any  rate  it  is  "free 
verse ' ' : 

The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd :  I  shall  not  want 
He  maketh  me  to  lie  down  in  green  pastures 
He  leadeth  me  beside  the  still  waters. 

One  modern,  who  in  certain  of  his  verses  prac- 
tises the  direct  simplicity  and  unfettered 
rhythm  which  Ezra  Pound  preaches  is  ( 'arl 
Sandburg,  a  Chicago  poet  whose  chief  handi- 
cap is  that  he  seems  to  have  read  nothing  earlier 
than  Walt  Whitman.  As  a  result  he  lacks  self- 
criticism,  is  to  often  unmusical,  and  is  therefore 
best  read  in  anthologies.  His  "Under  the  Har- 
vest Moon"   has  admirable   felicity   of  phrase: 

Under   the   harvest   moon, 
When  the  soft  silver 
Drips   shimmering 
Over  the  garden  nights, 
Death,  the  gray  mocker, 
Comes  and  whispers  to  you 
As  a  beautiful   friend 
Who  remembers. 

Under  the  summer  roses 
When  the  flagrant  crimson 
Lurks   in   the   dusk 
Of  the  wild  red  leaves, 

Love,    With    little    hands, 

i  lomea  and  touches  you 
With  a  thousand  memoi 

And   asks  you 

Beautiful,  unanswerable  questions. 

Bead   the  little  nine  line  word  picture      I 
and  you  must   admil   that   rhyme  and   uniform 
symmetry   of  syllables  are  non-essentials: 

Desolate    and    lone 

All  night    long  on   the   lake 

Where  fog  trail-,  and   mist   creeps, 

The  whistle  of  -.,  boat 

<  alls  and  cries  unendingly, 

lake   sonic    lost    child 
In   tears  and   trouble 

Bunting  the  harbor's  bre 
And  the  harbor's  eyes. 

Carl  Sandburg  is  not  always  so  inspired.  He 
likes  to  be  thought  a  roughneck,  and  prints  as 
poems  what  mighl  better  be  .■kissed  as  indiffer- 
ent  prose.      Take    for   instance   "lee    Handler'": 

I  know  an  ice  handler  who  wears  a  flannel 
shirt  with  pearl  buttons  the  size  of  a 

And  he  lugs  a  hundred-pound  hunk  into  a 
saloon  icebox,  helps  himself  to  cold  ham 
and  rye  bread, 

Tells  the  bartender  it's  hotter  than  yesterday, 
and  will  be  hotter  yet  tomorrow,  by 

And  is  on  his  way  with  his  head  in  the  air  and 
a  hard  pair  of  fists. 

He  spends  a  dollar  or  so  every  Saturday  night 
on  a  two  hundred  pound  woman  who 
washes   dishes   in    the   Hotel   Morrison. 

He  remembers  when  the  union  was  organized 
he  broke  the  noses  of  two  scabs  and 
loosened  the  nuts  so  the  wheels  came  off 
six  different  wagons  one  morning,  and 
he  came  around  and  watched  the  ice 
melt  in  the  street. 

All  he  was  sorry  for  was  one  of  the  scabs  bit 
him  on  the  knuckles  of  the  right  hand, 
so  they  bled  when  he  came  around  to  the 
saloon  to  tell  the  boys  about  it. 

A  little  of  this  kind  of  thing  at  first  amuses, 
but  very  soon  it  palls.  The  truth  is  that  the 
vers  librists  write  too  much  or  at  least  have  too 
much  published.  You  have  to  wade  through 
acres  of  camouflaged  prose  to  find  the  thrill 
of  sincere  emotion.  Rhyme  at  its  worst  was 
never  so  verbose  as  this.  Too  many  of  the  vers 
librists  fancy  that  a  catalogue  of  names  or  epi- 
thets is  impressive,  whereas  it  is  merely  dull. 
Walt  Whitman  who  introduced  this  fashion, 
suffers  the  penalty.  Walt  is  more  often  prais- 
ed than  read. 

Vers  hire  is  too  often  used  as  a  cloak  for 
slipshod,  slovenly  writing  by  a  host  of  eharla- 



January,  1919. 

tans,  of  whom  the  most  impudent  are  to  be 
found  in  the  1917  volume  of  a  publication  en- 
titled "Others,"  e.g.,  Walter  Conrad  Arens- 
berg  whose  "Axiom"'  I  quote: 

From  a  determinable  horizon 

spectacularly  from  a  midnight 
which  has  yet  to  make  public 

a  midnight 
in  the  first  place  incompatibly  copied 
the  other 

in  observance  of  the  necessary  end 

the  simultaneous  insularity 

of  a  structure 
a  little  longer 

than  the  general  direction 
of  goods  opposed 

These,  however,  are  but  the  campfollowers  of 
the  movement  parading  as  soldiers,  and  their 
Falstaffian  braggadocio  provokes  little  more 
than  derision.  Yet  in  spite  of  the  eccentrics, 
the  fact  remains  that  verse  of  a  very  high  or- 
der has  been  written  in  the  last  twenty  years 
without  the  metrical  and  rhyming  conventions 
of  preceding  centuries.  Within  the  last  ten 
years  just  as  fine  poetry  has  been  written  in  free 
verse  as  in  rhyme,  and  poets  are  foolish  to  deny 
themselves  this  freedom  from  metrical  fetters. 

Rhyme  is  the  natural  refuge  of  the  minor 
poet.  Without  its  aid  he  is  unable  to  create 
a  phrase  which  has  much  chance  of  being  re- 
membered. Without  its  aid  in  many  cases  he 
could  not  write  anything  at  all.  It  is  the  rhyme 
which  suggests  his  thoughts.  He  makes  the 
throstle  sing  because  it  rhymes  with  spring,  his 
sky  is  blue  because  it  rhymes  with  dew.  Now, 
if  the  thought  suggested  by  a  rhyme  is  really 
a  good  thought,  there  is  no  harm  done.  It  is  a 
good  thing  for  the  race  when  a  child  is  born  of 
love.  It  is  also  a  good  thing  for  the  race  when 
love  is  born  of  a  child.  The  chances  are  then 
all  the  greater  that  there  will  be  more  children 
to  follow. 

In  the  ease  of  Keats,  whose  manuscripts  with 
all  their  variant  readings  and  corrections  have 
been  at  the  mercy  of  Buxton  Forman,  there  is 
lie  question  that  the  rhyme  was  often  father 
to  the  thought.  So  that  the  minor  poets  do 
rhyme  in  good  company. 

The   vers  librists  are  also  in  good  company. 

Shakespeare's  plays  are  dated  by  the  preval- 
ence or  paucity  of  rhyme;  the  rhyming  plays 
are  for  other  reasons  also  proved  to  be  the  ear- 
lier. Sidney  Lanier  in  his  "Science  of  English 
Verse"  points  out  that  Shakespeare  in  his  later 
plays  such  as  "Measure  for  Measure*'  uses  so 

many  run-on  lines  and  phrase  groups  which 
insert  pauses  within  the  body  of  the  line,  that 
the  line  group  is  practically  obliterated  for  the 
ear.  Were  it  obliterated  for  the  eye  also  by  the 
typesetter,  Shakespeare  would  admittedly  be- 
long to  the  vers  librists.  Collins  in  his  "  Ode 
to  Evening"  discards  rhyme  successfully  in  a 
metre  which  is  not  blank  verse  although  it  re- 
tains a  symmetry  of  lines. 

Such,  however,  was  the  charm  of  carefully 
handled  rhyme  that  it  could  not  be  killed.  It 
was  well  suited  to  the  English  temperament, 
which  always  has  preferred  melody  to  orches- 
tration and  tunes  to  tone  pictures. 

In  the  hands  of  certain  poets  of  rich  vocabu- 
lary rhyme  has  proved  an  added  charm  to  fine 
thought.  The  most  ardent  champions  of  free 
verse  admit  the  magic  of  John  Keats.  Take 
the  '"Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn,"  for  instance,  the 
second  verse : 

Heard  melodies  are  sweet,  but  those  unheard 
Are  sweeter;  therefore,  ye  soft  pipes,  play 
Not  to  the  sensual  ear,  but,  more  endear 'd 

Pipe  to  the  spirit  ditties  of  no  tone : 
Fair  youth,  beneath  the  trees,  thou  canst  not 
Thy  song,  nor  ever  can  those  trees  be  bare ; 
Bold  Lover,  never,  never  canst  thou  kiss, 
Though   winning   near  the    goal — yet,    do   not 
grieve ; 
She    cannot    fade,    though    thou    hast    not 
thy  bliss, 
For  ever  wilt  thou  love,  and  she  be  fair ! 

Yet  so  far  from  being  a  necessary  quality  of 
poetry,  rhyme  is  at  the  best  a  convention.  It  is 
possible  to  write  real  poetry  in  rhyme  just  as 
it  is  possible  to  express  real  grief  while  wear- 
ing a  top  hat  and  frock  coat  at  a  funeral,  but 
there  are  other  ways  also  both  of  writing  poetry 
and  of  expressing  grief. 

Of  all  the  forms  of  rhyme,  familiar  to  Eng- 
lish verse  of  the  last  fifty  years,  the  most 
severely  conventional  is  probably  the  Sonnet, 
and  particularly  the  Petrarchan  form.  This 
form  of  Sonnet  requires  the  poet  to  find  four 
rhyming  words  twice  over  within  eight  lines, 
a  strain  on  vocabulary  which  was  too  much  for 
Shakespeare  who  appropriated  an  easier  form 
of  Sonnet  for  his  particular  use.  However,  the 
minor  poet  of  to-day  revels  in  this  Petrarchan 
form.  The  result  has  been  an  appalling  output 
of  distorted  language  and  twisted  thought.  Such 
a  metre  is  as  fatal  to  natural  movement  of 
thought  as  the  average  corset  is  to  the  female 
figure.  Of  course  if  you  are  used  only  to  the 
corsetted  figure,  you  may  think  the  Venus  of 
Milo  indecent. 

January,  L919. 



Rhyme  is  essentially  an  appeal  to  the  ear,  but 
the  ear  is  doI  the  only  avenue  of  approach  to 
the  human  intelligence.  In  the  days  of  the  bal 
hnl  monger,  poetry  was  more  spoken  than  read, 
Imi  in  these  days  of  the  printed  page,  verse  is 
read  a  hundred  times  to  once  when  it  is  said 

Free  verse  which  in  practised  hands  allows  a 
Line  to  a  phrase,  however  short  or  long  that  may 
be,  presents  the  thought  in  the  form  which 
most  easily  gets  home  to  the  reader.  The  wri- 
ter of  five  verse  who  chops  his  lines  irregular- 
ly, without  any  method  or  reason  except  to  be 
eccentric,  is  merely  a  poor  craftsman  who  does 
not  understand  his  tools.  Hut  the  skilful  wri- 
'  ter  of  free  verse,  to  use  the  phrase  of  a  printer, 
••makes  type  work.'"  and  "making  type  work" 
is  just  as  legitimate  an  aid  to  the  poet  as  the 
repetition   of  a   note  in   rhyme. 

There  are,  of  course,  slaves  who  become  so 
used  to  their  servitude  that  they  would  be  un- 
happy as  freemen,  and  so  there  are  rhyming 
poets  who  shudder  at  the  thought  of  free  verse. 
It  savours  to  them  of  license.  And  yet  if  they 
only  take  courage  and  brave  an  ignorant  ridi- 
cule, how  much  could  they  accomplish?  I 
think,  for  instance,  of  Sara  Teasdale,  whose 
"Love  Songs'"  was  voted  by  a  committee  of  the 
Poetry  Society  of  America  the  best  book  of 
poems  published  in  1917.  Sara  Teasdale  is  the 
most  skilful  and  dainty  of  rhymers  —  rather 
thin  in  thought  but  perfect  in  technique.  Of 
her ' '  Love  Songs ' '  there  is  only  one  in  free  verse, 
but  how  much  higher  it  stands  than  the  others 
in  intensity.  "But  Not  to  Me"  is  typical  of 
her  rhyme: 

The  April  night  is  still  and  sweet 
With  flowers  on  every  tree; 

Peace  comes  to  them  on  quiet  feet, 
But  not  to  me. 

My  peace  is  hidden  in  his  breast 

Where  I  shall  never  be ; 
Love  comes  tonight  to  all  the  rest. 

But  not  to  me. 

Compare    with    this     her     unrhymed     poem 
' '  Summer  Night.  Rivei  side 

In  the  wild,  soft  summer  darkness 

How  many  and  many  a  night  we  two  together 

Sat  in  the  park  and  watched  the  Hudson 

Wearing  her   lights  like   golden    spangles 

Glinting  on  black  satin. 

The  rail  along  the  curving  pathway 

Was  low  in  a  happy  place  to  let  us  cross 

And  down   the  hill  a  tree  that    dripped    with 

Sheltered  us. 

While  your  kisses  and  the  flowers, 
Palling,  falling 
Tangled   my  hair     .... 

The    frail    white    stats    moved    slowly    over    the 

And   now,    far  oil' 

In  the  fragrant  darkness 

The  tree  is  tremulous  again  \\  ith  bit 

For  June  comes  back. 

Tonighl   what   girl 

Dreamily  before  her  mirror  shakes  from  her 

This  year's   blossoms,   clinging   in    its   coils? 

Between  the  formal  symmetrical  rhymed 
verse  and  the  irregular  fi verse  there  are  cer- 
tain poems  with  lines  of  irregular  length,  hut 
still  rhymed,  which  may  he  called  transition. 
Notable  among   these  are   | ms  by   T.   S.    Eliot, 

Ford  Madox  Hueffer  and  Conrad  Aiken.  T.  S. 
Eliot  has  a  curious  -kill  in  suggesting  atmos- 
phere-the  atmosphere  particularly  of  English 
middle  class  life — least  inspiring  of  subjects  to 
the  ordinary  poets — as  for  instance  in  the 
"Portrait  of  a  Lady,"  the  opening  of  which 
runs : 

Among  the  smoke  and  fog  of  a  December  af- 

You  have  the  scene  arrange  itself — as  it  will 
seem  to  do — 

With  "I  have  saved  this  afternoon  for  you"; 

And  four  wax  candles  in  the  darkened  room. 

Four  rings  of  light  upon  the  ceiling  overhead ; 

An  atmosphere   of  Juliet's  tomb. 

Prepared  for  all  the  things  to  be  said,  or  left 

We  have  been,  let  us  say.  to  hear  the   latest 

Transmit   the   Preludes,   through  his  hair  and 


Conrad  Aiken  who  is  technically  one  of  the 
most  expert  of  the  younger  American  poets,  and 
who  is  a  critic  rather  than  a  defender  of  un- 
rhymed verse,  is  particularly  happy  with  this 
transition  form  in  his  poem  "Disenchant- 
ment." The  most  impressive  use  of  this  form 
is  however,  that  by  Ford  Madox  Hueffer.  who 
with  unconventional  rhythms  and  unexp 
rhymes  keeps  the  mind  alert  to  music  of  extra- 
ordinary charm.  Here  for  instance  are  the 
ing  lines  of  that  wonderful  poem  called 

This  is  Charing  Cross ; 

It  is  one  o'clock. 

There    is   still    a    great    cloud,    and   very   little 

light : 
Immense    shafts    of    shadows    over    the    black 

That   hardly   whispers   aloud.     .     .     . 
And   now !     .     .     .     .     That    is    another    dead 




January.  1919. 

And  there  is  another  and  another  and  an- 
other    .... 

And  little  children,  all  in  black, 

All  with  dead  faces,  waiting  in  all  the  waiting- 

Wanderiug  from  the  doors  of  the  waiting  room 

In  the  dim  gloom. 

These  are  the  women  of  Flanders: 

They  await  the  lost. 

They  await  the  lost  that  shall  never  leave  the 

They  await  the  lost  that  shall  never  again  come 
by  the  train 

To  the  embraces  of  all  these  women  with  dead 
faces ; 

They  await  the  lost  who  lie  dead  in  trench 
and  barrier  and  fosse 

In  the  dark  of  the  night. 

This  is  Charing  Cross;  it  is  past  one  of  the 
clock ; 

There  is  very  little  light. 

There  is  so  much  pain. 

And   it   was   for   this   that   they   endured   this 

gloom  ; 
This  October  like  November, 
That  August  like  a  hundred  thousand  hours, 
And  that  September, 

A  hundred  thousand  dragging  sunlit  days 
And  half  October  like  a  thousand  years.     .     . 
Oh.  poor  dears! 

In  this  Chicago  anthology  of  "The  New 
Poetry,"  edited  by  these  leaders  of  the  modern 
poetry,  I  find  only  one  poem  ascribed  to  a  Can- 
adian, and  that  Canadian  does  not  appear  in 
the  Valhalla  erected  by  Mr.  John  Garvin  in  his 
encyclopaedic  volume  of  Canadian  poets.  Bliss 
Carman  is  dismissed  by  the  Chicago  editors  as 
belonging  to  the  nineteenth  century — the  one 
ewe  Canadian  lamb  who  apparently  counts  in 
the  twentieth  century  being  a  lady  of  the  name 
of  Constance  Lindsay  Skinner.  Born  in  Brit- 
ish Columbia,  this  lady  was  brought  Tip  among 
a  tribe  of  Indians  and  the  poems  cited  are  her 
interpretation  into  English  of  the  Indian  spirit 
and  romance.  They  are  "free  verse,"  and  to 
me  are  fine  verse  —  even  though  they  do  not 
rhyme  like  Mr.  Garvin's  galaxy  of  stars.  Here 
is  one  called  "The  Song  of  the  Search": 

I  descend  through  the  forest  alone. 
Rose-flushed    are    the    willows,    stark    and     a- 

In  the  warm  sudden  grasp  of  Spring; 
Like  a  woman   when  her  lover  has  suddenly, 

swiftly  taken  her. 
I  hear  the  secret  of  the  little  leaves. 
Waiting  to  be  born. 
The  air  is  ;i  wind  of  love 
From  tin-  wings  of  eagles  mating — ■ 
o  eagles,  my  sky  is  dark  with  your  wings! 
The  hills  and  the  waters  pity 
The  pine  I  rees  reproach  me. 
The  little  moss  whispers  under  my  feet, 

"Sou  of  Earth,  Brother, 

"Why  comest  thou  hither  alone?" 

Oh,  the  wolf  has  his  mate  on  the  moun- 
Where  art  thou.  Spring-daughter? 
I  tremble  with  love  as  the  reeds  by  the  river, 
I  burn  as  the  dusk  in  the  red-tented  west, 
I  call  thee  aloud  as  the  deer  calls  the  doe, 
I  await  thee  as  hills  wait  the  morning, 
I  desire  thee  as  eagles  the  storm ; 
I  yearn  to  thy  breast  as  night  to  the  sea, 
I  claim  thee  as  the  silence  claims  the  stars. 
0  earth,  Earth,  great  Earth. 
Mate  of  God  and  mother  of  me, 
Say,  where  is  she,  the  Bearer  of  Morning, 
My  Bringer  of  Song? 
Love  in  me  waits  to  be  born, 
Where  is  She,  the  woman? 

Bliss  Carman  is  discarded  by  these  Chicago 
anthologists  probably  because  of  his  recent 
verse,  which  certainly  seems  to  have  lost  Ihe 
original  fire.  Yet  his  unrhymed  verses  in  the 
cycle  entitled  "Sapho"  belong  to  this  century, 
and  are  better  than  many  of  those  print- 
ed.    Take  for  instance  these  two: — 

The  courtyard  of  her  house  is  wide 
And  cool  and  still  when  day  departs. 
Only  the  rustle  of  leaves  is  there 

And  running  water. 

And  then  her  mouth,  more  delicate 
Than  the   frail  wood-anemone, 
Brushes  my  cheek,  and  deeper  grow 
The  purple  shadows. 

There  is  a  medlar-tree 

Growing  in  front  of  my  lover's  house, 

And  there  all  day 
The   wind   makes   a   pleasant   sound. 

And  when  the  evening  comes, 
We  sit  there  together  in  the  dusk, 

And  watch  the  stars 
Appear  in  the  quiet  blue. 

These  two  poems  are  frankly  inspired  by 
Greek  spirit  and  follow  Greek  rhythms.  Yet 
they  are  simple  and  direct,  and  belong  to  to-day 
just  as  much  as  to  two  thousand  years  ago.  Had 
the  later  Bliss  Carman  developed  on  such  sim- 
ple forms  of  expression,  Canadian  poetry  might 
well  have  been  the  richer. 

Although  the  output  of  poetry  by  Canadians 
is  considerable,  so  far  it  has  been  only  minor 
poetry — in  certain  cases  of  admitted  charm  and 
in  many  cases  of  technical  excellence.  There 
is,  however,  no  strong  vigorous  voice  of  individ- 
ual note  whose  message  arrests  attention  from 
the  whole  English-speaking  world.  There  is 
nothing  in  Canadian  poetry  on  as  impressive 
a  scale  as  Canadian  landscape  or  commensur- 
ate with  Canada's  vast  forests,  great  rivers  and 
tremendous    distances. 



I  w miilcr  w hether  i li is  is  nol  due  in  pa rl  al 
[easl  in  the  shackles  of  rhyme,  to  the  metrical 
conventions  which  Canadian  poets  have  almosl 
without   exception  blindly  accepted.     How  can 

the  spirit  lit'  a  half-tamed  new  continenl  I s 

pressed  in  a  courtly  seventeenth  century  jingle? 

In  the  case  of  one  of  the  finesl  of  the  young 
Canadian  singers,  i  find  that  these  shackles 
chafe  Arthur  Stringer,  who  in  spite  of  a  re 
cent  lapse  into  purely  commercial  movie  melo 
drama  has  given  evidence  of  greal  literary  abil 
ity  and  is  a  lyrical  poet  of  no  mean  order.  I 
remember  how  six  years  ago  1  was  thrilled  by 
a  few  lines  of  verse  ascribed  to  him  by  a  Can- 
adian paper.  They  were  headed  'One  Night  in 
the  North    West. ' '  and   ran  : 

When    they    flagged    our    train    because     of     a 

broken   rail, 
1  stepped  down  out  of  the  crowded  car. 
With  its  glamour  and  dust  and  heat  and  babel 

of  broken  talk. 
I  stepped  out  into  the  cool,  the  velvet  eool.  of 

the  night. 
And  felt   the  balm   of  the   prairie-wind   on  my 

And  somewhere  I  heard  the  running  of  water, 
I  felt  the  breathing  of  grass. 
And  I  knew,  as  I  saw  the  great  white  stars. 
That   the  world  was  made  for  good! 

You  will  find  that  verse  in  his  volume  of 
poems  entitled  "Open  Water.*'  Now  listen  to 
what  Arthur  Stringer  say-,  in  his  preface  to  that 
book : — 

.Modern  poetry  is  remote  and  insincere,  not 
because  the  modern  spirit  is  incapable  of  feel- 
ing, but  because  what  the  singer  of  today  has 
felt  has  not  been  directly  and  openly  express 
ed.  His  apparel  has  remained  mediaeval.  He 
must  still  don  mail  to  face  Mausers,  and  wear 
chain-armour  against  machine-guns.  The  one- 
time primitive  directness  of  English  was  over- 
run by  such  forms  as  the  ballade,  the  chant 
royal,  the  rondel,  the  kyriell,  the  rondeau  and 
the  rondeau  redouble,  the  virelai  and  the 
pantoum,  the  sestina.  the  villanelle,  and  last. 
yet  by  no  means  least,  the  sonnet. 

The  twentieth  century  poet,  singing  with 
his  scrupulously  polished  vocalisation,  usual- 
ly finds  himself  content  to  re-echo  what  has 
been  said  before.  He  is  unable  to  "travel 
light";  pioneering  with  so  heavy  a  burden  is 
out  of  the  question.  Rhyme  and  metre  have 
compelled  him  to  sacrifice  content  for  form. 
It  has  left  him  incapable  of  what  may  be  call- 
ed abandonment. 

Unable  to  express  himself  adequately  in  the 
conventional  tradition  of  end-rhymes,  Arthur 
Stringer  therefore  takes  to  free  verse.  In  this 
mode  he  is  not  always  successful  i1  is  not  so 
easy  as  it  looks — a   certain    monotony    due.      1 

thing,  i"  too  greal  regularity  of  line  lengths, 
weakens  the  effect  of  some  of  his  experimi 
But  on  the  whole  he  gives  an  impression  of  in- 
and  sincere  emotion  which  comes  refresh- 
ingly after  so  much  conventional  rhyming.  Here 
arc  two  typical  verses  ; 


Remote,    in    some   dim    room. 

On    this    dark    April    morning    suit    with 

I   hear  her  pensive  touch 

Fall    aimless    en    the    keys. 

And  stop,  ami  pla\   again. 

And    as    the    music    wakens 

And   the   shadowy    house   is  still, 

How  all  my  troubled  soul  cries  out 

For  tilings  I  know  not   of 

Ah.    keen    the   quick    chords    fall. 

And    weighted    with    regret. 

Fade    through    the    quiet    rooms; 

Ami   warm   as   April    rain 

The  strange   tears   fall, 

And   life  in  some   way   seems 

Too  deep  to  bear! 

The  thin  gold  of  the  sun  lies  slanting  on  the 


In  the  sorrowful  greys  and  muffled  violets 
of  the  old  orchard 

A  group  of  girls  are  quietly  gathering  apples. 

Through  the  mingled  gloom  and  green  they 
scarcely   speak    at    all. 

And  their  broken  voices  rise  and  fall  un- 
utterably sad. 

There  are  no  birds, 

And  the  goldenrod  is  gone. 

And  a  child  calls  out.  far  away,  across  the 
autumn   twilight; 

And  the  sad  grey  of  the  dusk  grows  slowly 

And   all  the  world   seems  old  | 

Duncan  Campbell  Scott  is  another  establish- 
ed Canadian  poet  who  has  experimented  with 
free  verse,  though  not  so  extensively  or  with 
such  success  as  Arthur  Stringer.     Here  is  his 

NEW    YEAR'S    NIGHT,    1916. 

The  Earth  moans  in  her  sleep 
Like  an  old  mother 
Whose  sons  have  gone  to  the  war. 
Who   weeps  silently  in   her  heart 
Till   dreams   comfort    her. 

The  Earth  tosses 

As  if  she  would  shake  off  humanity, 

A  burden  too  heavy  to  be  borne. 

And    free   of  the   pest    of  intolerable   men. 

Spin  with  woods  and  waters 

Joyously   in   the   clear   heavens 

In    the    beautiful    cool    rains. 

ing  gladly  the  dumb  animals. 
Aid  sleep  when  the  time  conies 
Glistening   in    the   remains   of  sunlight 
With  marmoreal  innocency. 



January,  1919. 

Be   comforted,    old   mother, 

Whose  sons  have  gone  to  the  war; 

And  be  assured,  0  Earth, 

Of  your  burden  of  passionate  men, 

For*  without  them  who  would  dream  the 

That  encompass  you  with  glory? 
Who  would  gather  your  youth 
And  store  it  in  the  jar  of  remembrance? 
Who  would  comfort  your  old  heart 
With  tales  told  of  the  heroes? 
Who    would    cover    your     face     with     the 

All  rustling  with  stars. 
Ami  mourn  in  the  ashes  of  sunlight, 
Mourn  your  marmoreal  innoceney? 

You  will  find  the  poem  in  the  volume  called 
"Lundy's  Lane"— and  such  as  it  is.  it  seems 
to  me  the  best  in  the  book. 

A  few  months  ago  Isabel  Kcelestone  Mackay 
sent  me  a  book  of  her  verses  called  "Between 
the  Lights"  on  the  flyleaf  of  which  she  wrote, 
"I  think  that  'Indian  Summer'  is  almost  the 
only  one  that's  any  good."  Now  is  it  a  coin- 
eidence  that  -'Indian  Summer"  is  the  only  poem 
in  that  book  in  which  the  rhyme  is  almost  neg- 


I   have   strayed  from  silent  places. 
Where  the  days  are  dreaming  always; 

And  fair  summer  lies  a-dying, 
Roses  withered  on  her  breast. 
I  have  stolen  all  her  beauty. 
All  her  softness,  all  her  sweetness; 
In  her  robe  of  golden  sunshine 
I  am  drest. 

I  will  breathe  a  mist  about  me 
Lest  you  see  my  face  too  clearly, 
Lest  you  follow  me  too  boldly 
I  will  silence  every  song. 
Thro'  the  haze  and  thro'  the  silence 
You  will  know  that  I  am  passing; 
When  you  break  the  spell  that  holds  you 
I  am  gone. 

In  the  last  few  months  Mrs.  Mackay  has  come 
under  the  spell  of  free  verse,  and  although  she 
has  not  yet  discarded  rhyme,  she  finds  an  ease 
of  expression  in  this  newer  mode  which  comes 
as  a  relief  after  the  old  hunt  for  rhymes.  Ar- 
thur L.  Phelps  is  another  Canadian  poet  who 
is  very  nearly  a  convert.  The  most  perfect 
thing  in  Marjorie  L.  C.  Pickthall's  "The  Lamp 
of  Poor  Souls"  is  her  free  verse  "Improvisation 
on  a  Flute." 

Put  yourself  in  the  place  of  the  writer  whose 
soul  is  burning  with  a  great  message.  What 
would  the  Songs  of  David  or  the  Song  of  Solo- 

mon have  been  if  they  had  had  to  conform  to 
the  rules  of  the  rhyming  dictionary?  Job  had 
many  grievances,  but  the  Lord  never  asked  him 
to  reply  only  in  sonnet  form.  It  is  a  great 
thing   for   English   literature   that   this   "chain 

J.    M.    GIBBON, 
Author  of  "Drums  Afar,"   "Hearts  and  Faces, 


mail,"  as  Arthur  Stringer  calls  it,  is  being 
laid  aside — an  admirable  costume  for  a  fancy 
dress  ball  but  no  longer  suited  for  this  freer 
world.  It  would  be  a  great  thing  for  Canadian 
literature  if  it  kept  pace  with  the  times  instead 
of  lingering  in  the  drawing  rooms  of  the  early 
Victorians.  The  times  are  moving.  Dynasties 
are  falling,  are  being  swept  away.  The  whole 
world  is  aflame  with  a  war  against  the  over- 
bearing tyranny  of  military  caste.  The  voice 
to-day  is  the  voice  of  the  people,  not  the  voice 
of  a  special  caste.  So  too  with  poetry,  where 
metrical  rhyming  forms  are  only  the  shibboleth 
of  imaginary  rank,  of  imaginary  finish  and 
style,  of  imaginary  caste.  They  are  a  fashion 
which  for  seven  hundred  years  has  dominated 
certain  languages  of  Europe,  a  fashion,  how- 
ever, which  shows  every  sign  of  passing  away, 
and  being  relegated  like  the  harpsicord  and  the 
crinoline  into  the  domain  of  the  museum  and 
of  history. 

January,  1919. 



Francis  Grierson 



AMONG  contemporary  men  of  letters  no  one, 
I  think,  gives  so  unique  an  impression  as 
Francis  Grierson.  Long  ago  he  proved  himself 
of  the  immortal  fellowship  of  the  great  essay- 
ists, at  the  same  time  proving  himself  a  master 
of  the  essay  in  an  unprecedented  manner.  And 
prior  to  this  literary  manifestation,  the  world 
knew  him  as  a  new  and  remarkable  power  in 
musical  improvisation. 

In  his  double  capacity  of  musician  and  of 
writer  he  owes  nothing  to  any  school  or  any 
master  or  method.  To  both  arts  he  brought  a 
singularly  instinctive  knowledge.  "Don't 
study,"  said  Auber,  the  French  composer,  after 
hearing  Mr.  Grierson  play  when  he  was  yet  a 
youth.  "Perhaps  if  you  study  music  you  will 
lose,  or  at  least  spoil,  your  strange  gift."  And  he 
did  not  study.  He  let  mind  and  fingers  lead 
him  where  they  would  through  the  chromatic 
tints  and  tones  of  instantaneous  melody. 

Then,  after  the  musical  side  of  his  nature  had 
predominated  for  many  years,  he  turned  at 
middle-age  to  literature.  And  again  in  this  art 
he  allowed  his  "strange  gift"  free  play.  lie 
improvised  in  the  medium  of  prose  as  rhythm- 


ically,  themically,  dynamically,  as  he  had  im- 
provised on  the  piano.  Improvisation  is,  indeed, 
the  law  of  his  being,  the  secret  of  his  power,  the 
quintessence  of  his  uniqueness.  He  reminds  us 
somewhere  that  "the  true  authoritative  mood  is 
instinctive;  it  is  not  put  on  as  a  warrior  would 
don  a  coat  of  mail."  And  the  words  strike  the 
keynote  of  his  own  moodal  temperament. 

All  essays  have,  or  should  have,  the  air  of  be- 
ing an  impromptu.  But  the  Grierson  essay  leaves 
one  with  no  impression  of  being  cunningly  made 
to  appear  as  if  dashed  off  under  a  single  im- 
pulse. Its  immediacy  is  fundamental.  It  is 
rooted  not  so  much  in  the  pencraft  as  in  the 
electric  propitiousness  of  its  author's  personal- 
ity. A  personality  which,  no  matter  how  long 
the  period  of  waiting,  never  utters  itself  through 
the  written  word  until  the  imperative  mood  is 
reached.  It  is  this  sudden  flash  of  irresistible 
illumination  that  constitutes  the  impromptu 
mood  of  .Mr.  Grierson's  essays.  As  an  essayist 
he  is  the  psychic  improvisatore. 

The  oneness  of  Mr.  Grierson's  nature  is  again 
to  be  found  noted  in  his  seclusion.  His  musical 
personality  found,  and  still  finds — for  he  re- 



January.  1919. 

tains  to  this  day  his  rare  gift— its  best  exp 
sion  in  presence  of  a  small  group  of  sympath 
listeners.       He  rarely   pleys    in    largt'     isscm- 
blies.     And  in  like  manner  his  literary  per 
ality  reaches  out  to  the  appreciative  few.     His 
literary  appeal  is  not  a  wide  one,  save  in  a  par- 
ticular sphere.     He  never  writes  for  the  "great 
public.'"     He   is  a    mandarin   of   letters.      I 
can  imagine  nothing  more  unfortunate  happen 
ing  to  Mr.  Grierson  than  to  be  "acceT-tcd"  in 
the  most   popular  sense  of   the  term.     For   his 
fine  eclecticism   in  art  and  thought,  while   re- 
strictive in  its  appeal,   is  one  of  the  brightest 
facets  of  his  alert  and  scintillating  mind.     Nor 
is  there  any   tedious  Pharisaism    in    his    acute 
feeling  of  selection.     It  is  intuitive  and  sincere. 
It  is  inspired  by  an  unfailing  sense  of  the  econ- 
omy of  moods  and  emotions.     It  is  inspired  also. 
that  subtle  egotism  of  the  intellect,  and  p  rhaps 
chiefly,  by  a  clairvoyant  fa  'ulty    of     piercing 
through  the  temporal  to  tie'  eternal. 

It  is  easy  to  miss  the  rare,  preponderant  spir- 
ituality which  infuses  Mr.  Grierson 's  aristoc- 
racy of  intellect  and  spirit.  The  word  "provin- 
cial" is  sprinkled  through  his  pages;  a  certain 
ironic  //</;//(  /(/•  tinges  his  keen  discriminal 
and  the  casual  reader  exclaims:  "The  superior 
hi!"  But  the  diligent  eye  detects  not  dis- 
dain of  tie'  lesser,  but  innate  love  of  the  best. 
"Character,"  writes  Mr.  Grierson,  "distinguish- 
es one  man  from  another,  and  gives  identity; 
true  personality  distinguishes  one  man  from  all 
others,  and  gives  originality."  He  is  one  con- 
scious of  possessing  that  potent  personality,  and 
acutely  aware  that  such  original  potency  spi 
from  the  soul,  from  man  to  man.  Ilis  egotism, 
ifore,  as  Hazlitt  said  of  Cobbett's,  is  "full 
of  individuality  and  lias  room  for  Very  little 
vanity  in  it." 

It  may  be  that  much  of  Mr.  Grierson's  at- 
traction lies  in  a  singular  equality  of  indepen- 
I  individuality  and  imperturbable  imperson 
ality.  The  quality  and  character  of  his  ideas 
mpersonal ;  their  manner  and  method  strik- 
ingly personal.  Early  in  life  he  put  from  him 
the  "hypothesis  of  chance,"  as  bo  calls  it: 
as  youth  ripened  into  maturity,  more  and  more 
did  the  law  of  phenomenal  relativity  in  casual 
things  become  the  touchstone  of  his  sympathies 
and  sentiments.  It  is  this  consciousness  of  un- 
conscious correspondence  that  forms  tie-  artistic 
consistency  of  his  essays.  That  is  the  fluid 
that  binds  the  whole  together,  and  that  under- 
lies his  critical  valuations  and  his  intimate  ut- 
terances alike.  He  weighs  everything,  pi  rsons, 
principles,  practices,  in  this  scale  of  infinite  har- 
monious progress.  With  clairvoyanl  ubiquity 
he  floats  and  flows  with  its  recondite  flux.  Yet, 
he  is  never  obscurely   rged   in   metaphj 

abstractions.  It  is  the  concrete  seen  in  the  lar- 
ger movement  of  a  psyehic  progression  that  is 
always  his  point  of  departure.  He  is  a  practical 
mystic:  subtle  in  thought  yet  substantial,  clear 
and  direct  in  treatment.  In  short,  his  feet  are 
firmly  planted  on  the  earth  while  his  eyes  fol- 
low the  Gleam.  '•Sonic  writers,"  he  complains. 
"inhabit  the  seventh  floor  of  intellect.  We  nev- 
er walk  in  to  see  them,  we  take  a  lift  and  go 
up:  we.  visit  them  by  a  process  of  mechanics 
and  metaphysics — but  we  are  always  glad  to 
get  back,  even  by  sliding  down  the  balustrade." 
In  his  capacity  of  thinker.  Mr.  Grierson  is  not 
of  this  brain-befogging  fraternity.  He  inhabits 
the  ground  floor  of  philosophic  speculation, 
even  if  it  has  a  sub-space  of  things  foreign  to 
conventional  thought  and  contains,  above  all, 
that  ■■(irru'ri  boutique"  of  self-seclusion  so  dear 
to  the  heart  of  Montaigne. 

.Just  here,  it  may  be  well  to  peer  for  a  mo- 
ment into  the  privacy  of  that  "arrien 
boutique,"  for  Mr.  Grierson  charms  by  a  ssrene 
spirit  of  detachment.  Singular  it  is  that  one 
who  has  sei  n  so  much  of  the  world  should  be 
so  iit;  nil  by  it  in  his  tastes  and  opinions. 

i  livini    v.  liter  has  had  a  wider  European  ex- 
:iee       His    personal    history     reads    like    a 
romance.     Horn  in  England,  he  was  still  in  his 
first  year  when   his  parents  emigrated  to    Am- 
erica.     After  a   boyhood  spent   in  the  Lincoln 
country  and  in  St.  Louis  on  the  eve  of  the  Civil 
War.  he  returned,  in  youth,  to  Europe,  and  for 
twenty  or  more  years  travelled  at  will  through 
tin    principal  capitals  and  towns.     His  wonder- 
ful   musical   gift   won    him   early   fame,   and   his 
alar   qualifications    of    mind    brought    him 
into  touch  with  the  makers  and  shapers  of  the 
world,  political,  social,  artistic  and  intellectual. 
He  knew  at  that  period  the  hardships  of  a  Bo- 
hemian existence  and  the  privileges  of  success. 
Yet.   throughout   this   Ion":   contact   with    great 
men  and  women,  this  nomadic  wandering  along 
the  fair-ways  and  by-ways  of  life,  he  took  on 
no  colours  unnatural  to  himself.     He  drew  much 
from  books,  more  from  human  intercourse,  but 
most  of  all  from  deep  thinking  on  original  lines. 
Everything  in  his    writings    relating     to     this 
period    of   his   career,   is   the   full   expression   of 
himself    in    relation    to   these   things.      When    we 
read   his   "Parisian    Portraits."   for   instance,   in 
which  lie  gives  us  vignettes  of  Mallarme,  Ver- 
laine,     Princess     Helene     Racowitza,     Pauline 
Viardot-Garcia,     Princess     Bonaparte     Ratazzi, 
and      others      famous      in      art      and      society 
with      whom      he     talked,     and     of     whose     hos- 
pitality   he    partoolc   at    that    time,     we    observe 
that  it  is  the  humanist  close  to  the  coil  of  human 
ity  yet  persisting  in  his  own  being,  who  studies 
these  men  and  women  of  genius.    From  the  first 

January,  1919. 


he  seems  in  have  had  a  mind  thai  moved  in 
singular  isolation,  under  all  circumstances,  in 
whatever  company.     Some  men  are  born   : 

Montaigne  was  < of  these;  Francis  Grierson 

is  another.  He  moves  always  with  the  cycle 
of  his  own  experiences. 

I>ut,  to  remain  with  the  impression  I'm'  the 
seclusion  which  his  work  exhales  is  traceable 
solely  to  an  instinct  of  self-dependence,  would 
be  a  grave  mistake.  H  derives  Eundamenl 
from  that  amalgam  of  possession  of  one's  self 
and  of  a  timeless  mind  which  moves  freely 
through  time  that  has  already  been  noted  as  his 
■animal  characteristics.  Individual,  and  with 
a  vigour  and  boldness  of  verdict  which  surprises 
uh?le  t  charms,  Mr.  Grierson  is  absolute  iu  his 
■  wn  sphere  of  experiene?  and  intui^on.  But 
the  bed-rock  of  his  absolutism  is  the  law  of  pro- 
gressive psychic  harmony  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  is  the  central  sun  of  his  thought  from 
which  all  rays  radiate.  Witness  the  following 
extract  from  an  essay  on  "The  Psychic  Power 
of  Genius": 

When  Walter  Savage  Landor  said:  "Give 
me  ten  competent  minds  as  readers,"  he  knew 
that  the  dynamic  force  of  his  intellect  would 
harmonize  with  the  latent  or  active  forces  of 
ten  competent  minds  unknown  to  him,  and  so 
act  and  react  on  others.  He  knew  that  the 
psychic  waves  evolved  in  his  brain  would 
flow  on  through  others,  fulfilling  the  intended 
mission  of  an  inexorable  and  immutable  law." 

It  is  the  recognition  of  an  "intended  mis- 
sion" in  the  law  of  intellect  that  underlies  his 
own  intellectual  absolutism.  We  feel,  when 
reading  him,  that  we  are  in  the  company  of  one 
who  has' come  to  terms  with  a  clear,  strong  vision 
of  life  evoked  from  personal  knowledge,  yet  who 
is.  at  the  same  time,  acutely  aware  of  its  alli- 
ance with  the  ordered  onflow  of  intuitive 
energy.  Hence,  he  is  detached  even  from  his 
own  detached  self-possession,  since  his  main  view- 
point is  that  of  a  timeless  movement  from  which 
the  element  of  chance  has  been  eliminated. 

Yet,  if  he  is  somewhat  of  a  Determinist,  he  is 
not  a  facile  optimist.  Moreover,  his  quietude 
is  marked  by  no  creed  of  quietism.  He  is  em- 
phatic about  the  imperative  quality  of  the  orig- 
inal mind,  maintaining  that  he  who  is  absolute 
in  his  own  sphere  of  intuition  "will  no  more 
think  of  tempering  his  speech  with  smiles,  or 
his  writings  with  suave  apology,  than  a  general 
would  think  of  asking  a  traitor's  pardon  before 
having  him  executed."  And  he  will  brook  no 
idea  of  persons  of  talent  being  "instruments" 
of  higher  powers,  his  claim  being  that  "the  high- 
er powers  are  always  the  powers  of  the  individ- 
ual." Like  Bergson,  he  fuses  individual  energy 
and  the  vital  push  of  life's  harmonious  advance 

in  one  in  vement.     Perhaps  il pi 

tome  of  his  idea  of  the  personal  and  the  psychi 
cally  mathematical,  as  well  as  of  the  practical 
nature  of  his  mysticism,  is  to  be  round  in  this 
passage : 

Everything  in  the  world  of  intellect  and 
inspiration  is  produced  by  natural  means. 
Then-  is  no  visible  line  between  the  material 
and  the  spiritual,  human  consciousness  bi 
only  the  last  and  highesl  i le  of  the  physi- 
cal;  for   the   laws   of    mind     harmonize    with 

those  of  all  the  forces  know  n  in  matter. 
What  we  call  psychical  manifestations  are  1 1 i 1 1 
distinct  from  other  manifestations  of  natural 
law,  and  we  have  ceased  to  talk  about  the 
"super-natural,"  science  having  rendered  the 
word    meaningless. 

Prom  such  a  passage  one  L'ets  a  glimpse  of 
that  sanity  and  proportion  which  characterise  all 
the  utterances  of  this  man  of  rare  spiritual  vi- 
sion. And  to  complete  the  picture  of  his  unique 
universality,  we  have  his  spirited  confession 
that  "we  shall  not  reach  finality  until  the  hist 
flicker  of  light  goes  out  on  the  shores  of  silence 
and  eternity." 

These  generalisations  may  perhaps  reveal 
something  of  the  point  of  view  which  runs 
through  Mr.  Grierson 's  work  as  a  whole.  But 
they  must  not  be  allowed  to  overflow  my  sp 
and  it  is  time  to  take  a  closer  survey  of  his 
essential   qualities  and   characteristics. 

Mr.  Grierson  is  an  essayist  in  a  new  manner. 
His  style  is  aphoristic  to  a  degree  unprecedented 
in  the  annals  of  the  English  essay.  He  has  an 
unusual  power  of  prismatic  focussing  in  trench- 
ant phrases.  There  is  little  sequential  flow  in 
his  essays;  the  thought,  which  is  strong,  original 
and  individual,  comes  in  swift  flashes  of  im- 
promptu illumination.  It  leaps  forward,  it 
recoils,  with  bewildering  movement.  Almost 
every  sentence  is  an  entity  in  itself,  summing 
up  a  whole  mental  position.  Yet.  the  cohesive 
power  remains  unimpaired,  for  in  each  essay 
the  barbs  of  thought  of  which  it  is  composed  are 
radiations  of  a  single,  swift,  vibrating  mood; 
while  their  vivid,  immediate  manner  is  allied  to 
a  rhythmic  sense  which  tones  and  shades  the 
lightning  flash  of  epigram  into  a  consecutive 
unity  of  haunting,  measured  mush'.  He  is 
acute,  but  never  angular.  His  prose  reminds  one 
of  Pater's  in  its  oracular  impression,  although 
it  exhibits  a  power  of  condensing  language  for- 
eign to  the  long-paragraphed  style  of  the  older 
writer.  And  his  essay-form  is  peculiarly  hi! 
own,  for  he  has  been  the  first  to  combine  in 
perfect  unison  the  vigorous  spring  of  the  aphor- 
ism proper  and  the  subtle,  quiet  movement  of 
the  traditional  essay.  His  magical  and  penetra- 
tive  aphorisms   arc   replete   with   a    philosophic. 



January,  1919. 

force  which  opens  a  door  to  many  moral  vistas. 
Moreover,  most  of  them  are  unlikely  to  tease 
posterity  with  the  note  of  their  hour,  since  they 
are  steeped  in  that  universal  perspicuity  which 
traverses  the  ages. 

Mr.  Grierson  first  appeared  in  print  in  the 
year  1882,  when  he  published  "Miscellaneous 
Discourses,"  a  series  of  lectures  which  he  had 
delivered  in  London 'in  1880,  and  whose  titles, 
"Militarism  in  Germany,"  "The  Influence  of 
Modern  Literature  from  a  Spiritual  Stand- 
point," revealed  a  "modern"  alive  to  the  ques- 
tions of  the  hour.  But  his  first  genuine  literary 
adventure  was  an  opuscule  of  aphorisms  and 
short  essays,  written  in  French,  and  entitled 
"La  Eevolti  Idealiste."  The  modest  brochure 
was  published  in  1889.  Mr.  Grierson  was  liv- 
ing in  Paris  at  the  time,  where  the  air  was  then 
tremulous  with  the  first  stirrings  of  an  idealis- 
tic reaction.  The  spirit  of  Positivism  was  wan- 
ing; Naturalism  was  in  its  death-throes;  men 
were  turning  against  the  elimination  of  meta- 
pbysics  from  philosophy,  of  the  faculty  of  won- 
der from  life.  Already,  Zola  was  perturbed  by 
the  sound  of  voices  crying  in  the  midst  of  the 
triumphant  march  of  exact  knowledge,  "Assez 
de  verite,  donnez-nous  de  la  chimin."  Already, 
a  number  of  young  writers,  calling  themselves 
Symbolists,  were  responding  to  the  cry  with  a 
literature  drenched  in  the  mystic  vapours  of 
the  unknowable.  But  the  movement  was  still 
awaiting  an  articulate  voice  when  "La  Revolte 
Idealiste"  appeared,  suggesting  tentatively  but 
in  prophetic  accents,  the  direction  of  its  goal. 
The  result  was  startling  but  abiding.  Within 
a  few  weeks  after  the  publication  of  the  little 
book,  the  author  was  hailed  by  fraternal  spirits 
in  many  lands  as  a  prophet  of  the  new  mystical 
phase  then  groping  its  way  into  philosophy  and 

To  this  movement  of  Modern  Mysticism, 
Francis  Grierson  undoubtedly  belongs.  He  was 
a  herald  of  its  dawn ;  he  is  still  engaged  in  put- 
ting his  index  finger  on  the  points  of  its  pro- 
gress. He  has  a  special  mysticism  of  his  own, 
if  you  will,  evoked  by  the  singular  seer-like 
quality  of  his  nature.  But  he  is  of  the  com- 
pany of  Maeterlinck  and  Bergson,  and  of  the 
increasing  number  of  writers  whom  we  may  call 
spiritual  emancipators.  That  is  to  say,  he  is 
of  that  band  of  modern  mystics  who  have  not 
laid  rude  hands  on  the  work  of  the  rationalist, 
emancipators  of  an  age  that  is  spent,  but  have 
extended  their  great  mental  bequest  into  the  re- 
gion of  the  unseen. 

Mr.  Grierson  may  best  be  described  as  an 
alert  and  original  advocate  of  the  "third  king- 
dom." He  sees  the  ultimate  uprising  out  of  the 
fusion  of  intellect  and  feeling,  of  reason  and  in- 

tuition, of  science  and  soul,  of  a  psycho-artis- 
tic and  psycho-mental  faculty  capable  of  get- 
ting nearer  to  life's  meaning  and  its  expression 
in  form  than  anything  that  has  gone  before.  In 
his  later  volumes  of  essays,  "Modern  Mysti- 
cism," "The  Celtic  Temperament,"  "The  Hu- 
mour of  the  Underman,"  where  his  philosophy 
of  life  is  intimidated  with  a  rare  sensitiveness 
of  expression,  this  idea  flashes  forth  at  unex- 
pected angles  from  the  various  themes.  He  may 
be  discussing  "Beauty  in  Nature,"  or  letting 
his  probing  irony  run  over  the  subject  of 
"Parsifalitis,"  but  below  the  surface  is  the 
current   of  th's  conviction. 

"La  Rcvoltr  I  dial  hie"  revealed  Mr.  Grier- 
son at  the  outset  as  a  watcher  on  the  tower ;  and 
perhaps  one  of  the  principal  ingredients  of  that 
marked  flavour  of  author  which  pervades  all 
his  writings,  is  a  strange  clairvoyance.  His  seer- 
like faculty  is  most  pronounced  in  his  "Invin- 
cible Alliance,"  where  the  predictive  sentences 
fad  one  after  the  other  like  the  stroke  of  an  elec- 
tric  bolt.  The  unity  of  the  Anglo-American 
people,  the  beginning  of  "a  reign  of  affairs,  the 
like  of  which  the  world  has  never  seen,"  an 
"agnostic  agony,"  a  new  era  which  "will  be  a 
forcing  time  not  only  for  grains,  but  for  in- 
dividuals"— these  are  some  of  the  predictions 
of  this  volume,  which  was  published  in  the 
spring  of  1913 ;  predictions  which  the  war  has 
brought  within  bounds  of  fulfilment.  Once 
again,  as  in  1889,  Mr.  Grierson  is  here  a  pro- 
phetic force,  the  man  who  reasons  from  reality  to 
reality  with  incisive  intuitional  discernment. 

I  said  at  the  beginning  that  Mr.  Grierson 
never  writes  for  the  "great  public."  But  there 
is  always  an  exception  to  prove  every  rule ;  and 
I  must  now  qualify  that  statement,  for  his 
latest  volume  of  essays.  "Illusions  and  Reali- 
ties of  the  War,"  is  nearer  to  a  general  liter- 
ary appeal  than  anything  he  has  yet  written. 
The  eclectic  only  crosses  the  pages  of  this  book 
at  rare  intervals.  It  is  a  direct  and  drastic  ut- 
terance of  a  drastic  time,  penned  by  one  who  is 
forever  aware  of  the  vitality  of  language.  Mr. 
Grierson  has  the  power,  when  dealing  with  a 
period  of  history,  of  producing  its  internal  at- 
mosphere by  a  subtle  affinity  of  style.  His 
"Valley  of  Shadows"  conjures  up  the  spiritual 
and  intellectual  atmosphere  of  the  Illinois 
prairie  in  the  days  preceding  the  Civil  War; 
and  the  feat  is  accomplished  not  only  by  draw- 
ing the  simple,  native  characters  with  sharp, 
impressive  strokes,  but  by  a  simplicity  and  lan- 
guid leisureliness  of  diction  which  exhales  the 
tranquility  of  primitive  habits  and  thought.  The 
main  theme  of  the  "Parisian  Portraits"  is  the 
passing  of  Napoleon  and  the  Second  Empire; 
and  the  intellectual   atmosphere   of  the  dying 

January,  1919. 

CANADIAN   i:ooi\)l.\S 


period  is  again  portrayed  no1  alone  by  clear, 
intimate  pictures  of  its  greal  personalities,  bu1 
by  a  piquancy  and  finesse  in  the  mode  of  ex- 
pression which  is  affianced  to  the  very  essence 
of  their  passing  salons.  And  now  again,  when 
he  would  summon  up  the  internal  atmosphere 
of  the  present  moment  of  "drastic  material  ac- 
tion" he  adopts  a  manner  in  consonance  with  it 
which  makes  his  hook  the  very  embodiment  of  its 
intangibility.  This,  we  suspect,  rather  than  the 
abandonment  of  the  combination  of  acuteness 
of  intellectual  faculty  and  delicate  literary  ex- 
pression which  marks  his  earlier  essays,  is  the 
secret  of  the  more  conventional  flavour  of  " Il- 
lusions and  Realities  ef  the  War."  The  sub- 
ject is  less  exclusive  than  those  of  his  former 
volumes;  the  style  is  less  exclusive;  and  it  is 
well,  for  this  is  a  book  that  should  be  in  the 
hands  of  all  those  who  would  learn  something 
forcible  and  convincing  about  that  modern 
psychology  which  the  author  claims  is  playing 
"the  dominant  role"  in  the  war. 

In  the  essay  "An  Era  of  Surprises,"  are 
these  words:  "What  makes  the  present  so  mar- 
vellous is  the  train  of  surprises  that  is  passing 
at  express  speed  while  only  a  few  observers  get 
a  clear  view  of  the  panorama  of  events  seen 
from  the  window7."  The  batch  of  essays  with 
which  he  presents  us  in  "Illusions  and  Reali- 
ties of  the  War"  is  the  view  which  has  passed 
under  his  own  keen,  inspecting  gaze.  And  he 
puts  his  index  finger  on  the  true  and  the  false 
in  the  panorama  of  events.  He  writes  scath- 
ngly  of  "Prussian  Provincialism,"  and  warn- 
mgly  on  "The  New  Teutonic  Pcychology. " 
With  devastating  frankness  he  diagnoses  the 
irony  of  "The  Ironic  Iron  Crosses,"  and  an- 

swers  convincingly   the   question,  "Does    War 
Change    Human    Nature'.'"      ,\      ....  ,    to    be   ex 

pected,  prop] y  is  also  lodged  in  Ids  pen.  ami 

in  "The  Awakening"  and  "The  Great  Recon 
struetion"  we  gel  glimpses  of  the  future.  And 
the  constructive  consistency  of  this  volume  is 
so  satisfying.  It  has  its  own  clear  point  of 
view.  Its  contents,  though  dealing  with  sub- 
jects as  diverse  as  Anglo-American  Unity  and 
The  Rag-Time  Rage,  are  all  of  a  piece.  Taken 
as  a  whole  these  penetrative  essays  achieve  their 
aim,  and  give  a  clear  and  acute  picture  of  the 
internal  atmosphere  of  the  political,  social,  and 
spiritual  changes  taking  place  in  the  stress  and 
agony  of  the  war. 

The  charge  of  too  much  interpretation   and 
too  little  criticism  may  be  laid  against  this  eon 
sideration   of   Francis   Grierson   and   his   work. 
But  the  exegctical  method  has  been  purposely 
adopted,  for  since  exegesis  is  far  more  personal 
than  criticism  it  serves  better  to  disengage  from 
an  author's  literary  output  the  personality  lurk 
ing  in  the  background.     And  Grierson 's  books 
have  that  precious  quality  of  personality  to  a 
superlative  degree.     He  is  a  modern  Montaigne, 
writing  always  within  the  bounds  of  his  owii 
temperament  and  with   the  objective  authority 
of  one  who  has  thought  things  out  for  himself 
His  mind  is  of  the  generating  order  rather  than 
the  creative.     He  is  creative  in  his  memorable 
expressions   and   in   the   transmittance   of   tem- 
peramental impression  rather  than  new  thought. 
This   is   why   one  must  view  him   exegetically. 
Moreover,  if  I  recommend  him  without  compro- 
mise it  is  in  the  hope  of  adding  still  further 
to  the  empire  of  one  who  regards  literature  as 
an  addition  to  life. 


CANADIAN    BOOKMAN  January,  1919. 

Potted  Prejudices 


I  HAVE  applied  this  title  to  the  sayings  of 
a  friend  of  mine,  much  given  to  epigram 
and  irony.  He  was  a  great  student  of  the  mas- 
ters in  those  styles,  and  cherished  many  a  choice 
example,  always  increasing  his  store.  I  re- 
member how  he  would  quote  from  Herodotus 
the  tale  of  Leander  swimming  across  the  Hel- 
lespont to  Hero  and  back  again,  and  how  he 
prized  its  conclusion :—" So  they  say  who  tell 
the  tale,  but  if  yon  ask  me,  I  should  say  that 
he  went  in  a  boat." 

Or  he  would  take  from  Clarendon  the  pic- 
ture of  the  presbyters  around  the  sick-bed  of 
Cromwell,  telling-  God  Almighty  what  great 
things  the  patient  had  done  for  Him,  and  how 
much  more  need  God  still  had  of  his  services. 
From  old  Thomas  Fuller  he  quoted  still  more 
largely,  as,  for  example,  that  "quirking"  com- 
ment: "Such  is  the  charity  of  the  Jesuits  that 
they  never  owe  any  man  any  ill-will,  making 
present  payment  thereof."  And  you  may  lie 
sure  that  Heinrich  Heine,  that  Prometheus  of 
all  wit,  was  to  him  an  inexhaustible  tonic  in 
a  world  of  compromise  and  cant. 

His  own  adventures  of  the  tongue  were  brief 
and  mainly  double-edged.  They  were  gaunt  and 
spare  and  never  showy.  Paradox  he  despised, 
defining  it  as  platitude  standing  on  its  head. 
He  had,  indeed,  a  passion  for  defining.  He  call- 
ed it  putting  salt  on  birds'  tails.  He  despaired 
of  ever  touching  the  bird.  The  besl  of  defini- 
tions, he  thought,  was  after  all  nothing  but  a 
prejudice.  Perhaps  it  was  the  more  inform- 
ing just  on  that  account.  He  shook  his  head 
over  the  attempts  of  scientists  to  concoct  defini- 
tions so  durable  that  they  would  force  their 
meaning  upon  some  curious  man  from  Mars  who 
might  one  day  visit  the  ruins  of  this  alien  world. 
Take,  for  instance,  this  of  the  Standi) I'd  Metre: 
"A  piece  of  metal  whose  length,  at  0°  centi- 
grade is  1,553,164  times  the  wave  length  of  the 
red  line  of  the  spectrum  of  cadmium,  when  the 
latter  is  observed  in  dry  air  at  a  temperature  of 
15  on  the  ordinary  hydrogen  scale  at  a  pres- 
sure of  664  millimetres  of  mercury  at  0  centi- 

What  would  the  Martian  know  of  centigrade, 
of  mercury,  of  the  ordinary  hydrogen  scale? 
Prejudice  and  all,  or  perhaps  because  of  the 
prejudice,  he,  if  a  psychologist,  might  get  more 
meaning    from    my    friend's    definition    of    the 

Metric  System  as  a  damnable  contrivance  to 
turn  Anglo-Saxondom  into  a  collection  of  ciph- 

You  perceive  that  my  friend  has  a  bit  of  a 
temper  and  a  certain  bias  against  science.  It 
leads  him  to  say  of 

A  GUINEA-PIG— That  it  is  a  small  labor- 
atory pet,  supposed  to  react  like  a  tiger 
to  experiments  that  are  never  made  in 
the  jungle : 

and  to  gibe  at 

AN  EXPERIMENT— As  an  attempt  to 
know  nature  by  means  that  nature  does 
not   know: 

He  has  wearied  of  the  facile  conclusions  up- 
on heredity  drawn  by  those  whose  chief  occu- 
pation is  to  promote  bigamy  among  sweetpeas, 
and  has  had  the  temerity  to  remark,  apropos  of 

MENDEL'S  LAW— That  barring  bees,  and 
given  a  sufficient  number  of  genera- 
tions; you  can  generally  find  what  you 
are  looking  for : 

He  is  even  more  captious  in  describing 

EUGENICS — As  pessimism  doing  its  best; 
or  how  to  improve  everybody  when 
you  think  that  nobody  can  be  im- 

My  friend  had  at  one  time  some  small  experi- 
ence of  law.  Perhaps  he  was  waiting  an  uncon- 
scionable while  for  the  distribution  of  an  in- 
heritance, which  will  account  for  this  somewhat 
acid  definition  of 

AN  EXECUTOR — As  one  who  is  always  in 
Europe : 

He  must,  too.  have  been  involved  in  a  trial  it- 
self, for  he  remarks  that 

AN   EXPERT   WITNESS— Is   one   whom    it 
costs    a    considerable    sum    to    contradict: 

It  was  his  boast  that  in  his  short  day.  he  had 
done  a  useful  amount  of  public  service,  for  he 
sums  up 

A    COMMITTEE— As  talk:   baulk:   walk- 
There    ran    through    many    of   his   remarks   a 

gentle   irony  of  scepticism,  as  when  he  says  of 


C  I  \  l/'/  I  A    BOOH  l/.I.V 


OMNIPOTENCE     Thai    i|    is    the    power    to 
avoid  the  final  teal  of  one's  limitations. 

It  is  in  a  somewhal  sterner  mood  thai   he 

A    HYPOCRITE     (in,,    whose    preaching    is 

superior   to   my    practice. 

Apparently  he  means  qui  accuse,  s'excuse.     Iii  a 

similar  spirit  he  used  to  confess,  with  some  heat 

ing  of  the  breast,  thai 

A  BORE — Is  anybody  who  prevents  from 
being  a  bore. 

His  outward  life  was  plain  ami  strict,  a 
fitted  so  universal  a  critic;  but  a  due  regard  for 

others  as  well  as  his  sense  of  humour  kept  him 
from  extremes. 

SACKCLOTH  -He  said,  is  a  rough  ma- 
terial likely  to  scratch  more  hacks  than 
the  wearer's.     Ami  so  he  avoided  it. 

Indeed,  for  all  his  practice,  emotionally  he 
leaned  towards  Epicureanism.  Therefore,  he 
praised  happiness  as  more  than  you  need  to  have 
for  what  you  do  not  need  to  do. 

But  he  could  never  have  been  a  sybarite.  His 
uncomfortable  sense  of  responsibility  was  too 
strong.  When  asked,  for  instance,  of  "Women's 
Rights,  lie  sternly  answered,  ".Men's  Duties,' 
Freedom  to  him  was  something  given  rather 
than  something-  got.  He  knew  his  Kant,  and 
rang  the  changes  on  that  magnificent  motto: — 
"Act  so  that  the  maxim  of  thy  spirit  may  he 
capable  of  being  a  universal  law." 

He  used  this  as  the  test  of  all  actions.  Crimes. 
he  said  accordingly,  are  what  nobody  could 
commit  if  everybody  committed  them. 

I  should  tell  you,  if  you  have  not  already 
guessed  it.  that  he  was  a  bachelor:  perhaps,  in- 
deed, too  critical  to  be  tamed  to  domestic  uses. 

"MARRIAGES" — He  once  remarked,  "are 
made  in  Heaven.  I  will  wait  till  I  get 

And  again — "If  the  grande  passion  is  always  a 
solo,  who  wants  the  duets?" 

Perhaps  there  was  a  special  reason  for  his 
unattached  condition. 

CONSTANCY— I  have  heard  him  aver,  is 
an   authorized   impertinence. 

Was  this  bitterness,  or  only  a  playful  perver- 
sion of  logic?  as  thus: — "An  authorized  con- 
stancy is  not  impertinent.  An  unauthorized  con- 
stancy must  be  impertinent."  Was  this  a  divid- 
ed heart,  or  only,  as  the  logicious  say.  an  un- 
distributed middle  ? 

And  yet  there  must  have  been  some  suscep- 
tibility in  him,  or  he  would  never  have  paid 
his  homage  to  beauty  as — the  presence  of  an  ex- 
ceptional quantity  of  something  that  is  not 
there.  And  you  may  be  quite  sure  that  there 
was  a  flame  somewhere  down  in  him.  for  it  was 
he  who  said  of 

TRAGEDY     Thai    it    v.  indifferei 

io  cine's  indiffen 

This  is  the  word  of  one  who  would  rather  perish 
than  stand  aloof,  lie  put  it  more  lightly:  "It  is 
onlj  the  ineffectual  angel  that  never  singes  his 

I  would  not  have  you  think  my  friend  a  cynic. 
He  had  indeed  laughed  at  cynicism  as  "Adam's 

its  first  collar,"  and  defii 
critic  s.,i    ,,!'    lit',-    by    one    who    has    not    lived." 
He  has  said  of 

DEMOCRACY     'I  iiat   ii   wis  government  of 

the   vulgar,   by  the   vulgar,   for  the   vulgar; 

W  That    it    was    the    knowledge    of 

how  to  i  e-arrange  the  pasl     of  what  to 
do  when  you  can  no  longer  do  it  : 

HOPE-   That    it    is    Faith    with    her    clothes 

stolen  : 

Yet  he  had  a  sound  belief  of  his  own,  which 
entitled   him   to  declare  of 

PRAGMATISM     That    it    is   a    broad    cr I 

that  is  quite  satisfactory  to  these  only 
w  hose  creed  is  still  broader 

It  was.  in  fact,  his  very  sense  of  irony  that 
made  him  endlessly  impatient  of  so  raw  and  fu- 
tile a  thing  as  cynicism:  and  this  sense  of  irony 
was  not  restricted  to  comment.  He  found  the 
world  itself  saturated  with  irony.  He  saw 
again  and  again  in  operation  a  merciless  logic 
of  contrariness  that  almost  overawed  him  as  he 
bowed  before  its  master-pi s.  He  was  un- 
moved when  noting  that  the  Cods  make  instru- 
ments of  our  pleasant  vices  wherewith  to  scourge 
us.  For  him  the  play  was  far  more  pointed  when 
he  perceived  that  men  may  be  betrayed  by  what 
is  fine  within.  The  thing  that  might  have  been, 
frustrated  by  the  effort  to  attain  it:  the  ful- 
fillment of  half  a  hope  murdering  the  hope  it- 
self: his  armour  stifling  the  warrior:  his  devo- 
tion defeating  the  lover;  the  heart  of  the  priest 
made  ashes  by  the  heat  of  his  prayer; — these 
for  him  were  the  dramas  the  Cods  could  attend 
when  all  the  sad  wit  of  men  had  been  reduced  to 

And  when  he  asked  himself  by  what  mood 
men  should  meet  these  bitter  humours,  the  very 
irony  he  summoned  up  was  a  confession  of  baf- 
flement. Resignation,  he  answered,  is  a  dose 
that  fits  us  for  more  of  the  same.  The  meek  in- 
herit the  earth — and  like  worms  can  never  be 
rid  of  that  dusty  inheritance. 

And  yet,  and  over  all.  he  was  an  optimist. 
The  last  thing  I  ever  heard  him  say.  was  the 
paraphrase  of  history  as  "looking  at  a  star  in 
a  well."  This  implied  a  certain  confidence  in 
humanity  as  much  as  in  the  Heavens.  A  month 
later  the  war  splashed  like  a  stone  into  his  well. 
and  he  went  out  to  die  for  his  star. 



January,  1919. 

Revery  of  a  Bookish  Librarian 


IT  is  a  sign  of  youth  to  desire  knowledge,  to 
long  to  know  of  the  great  world,  to  iden- 
tify oneself  with  adventure  and  to  project 
oneself  into  other  existences.  Some  people 
retain  that  youthful  spirit,  and,  even  to  what 
is  external  old  age,  preserve  that  freshness  of 
view,  that  many  sidedness  of  interest  and  that 
enthusiasm  which  is  so  attractive  to  all  their 
friends.  They  have  a  background  in  life,  a 
mental  background,  that  is  so  varied  and 
adaptable  as  to  accommodate  itself  and  seem 
in  some  degree  suitable  to  almost  every  scene 
or  experience  of  daily  life. 

I  suppose  there  is  no  one  without  a  mental 
background,  and  there  are  probably  no  two 
persons  with  exactly  the  same  mental  back- 
ground. I  wish  that  some  artists  could  realize 
this  truth.  Our  mental  backgrounds  are  con- 
ditioned by  our  experiences  in  life,  and  there- 
fore are  ever  changing.  We  sometimes  speak 
of  the  mental  background  as  our  "education," 
and  too  often  this  is  looked  upon  as  a  state  in- 
stead of  a  process.  We  are  being  changed 
in  our  attitude  or  being  influenced  by  every 
thing  we  meet.  Therefore,  we  can  understand 
those  who  claim  that  our  environment  is  all 
important  in  our  lives. 

If  that  environment  is  unpleasant  or  monot- 
onous— and  sometimes  these  terms  are  inter- 
changeable— we  long  for  a  life  and  experi- 
ences which  take  us  away  from  our  surround- 
ings. These  we  find  in  the  association  of  peo- 
ple whose  experiences  have  been  collected  by 
some  one  who  has  given  them  form  and  pro- 
portion so'  that  we  can  share  that  life  and  en- 
joy it  with  them.  This  may  take  the  form  of 
a  drama  with  actors  upon  a  stage,  or  it  may 
be  pictured  in  book  form.  In  either  case  it  is 
successfully  done  when  without  effort  or  awk- 
wardness we  mingle  freely  with  our  new  ac- 
quaintances. We  are  not  interested — indeed 
we  cannot  be — in  a  picture  of  life  all  the  de- 
tails of  which  are  familiar  to  us ;  nor  again 
in  a  picture  of  life  in  which  none  of  the  de- 
tails are  familiar.  Just  as  in  a  company  we 
need  some  familiar  acquaintances  to  make  the 
company  congenial,  but  we  wish  also  to  meet 
some  different  persons,  to  make  some  new  ac- 
quaintances, so  that  the  experience  will  bring 
pleasure.  This  occurs  to  me  when  I  hear 
people  say  that  they  wonder  why  Canadians 
do    not    road    more    Canadian    books,    and    in- 

deed they  go'  so  far  as  to  say  that  they  think 
a  novel  about  Toronto  would  be  of  intense  in- 
terest. I  can  think  of  nothing  which  to  me 
would  likely  be  duller. 

I  read  that  I  may  enlarge  my  acquaintance, 
and  I  have  this  great  advantage  in  using 
books  for  this  enlargement.  I  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  choosing  the  persons  with  whom  I  can 
associate.  The  people  who  live  in  books  are 
just  as  real  and  many  times  vastly  more  in- 
teresting than  the  people  who  live  in  our  cit- 
ies or  towns  and  whose  oral  production  is  the 
sign  of  their  existence. 

Then  again  those  whom  one  meets  every 
day  are  the  shadows  of  the  universal  types 
with  whom  one  is  acquainted  in  the  great 
chronicles  of  life  in  the  books.  I  often  see 
Pecksniff  on  King  Street,  Micawber  on  Vic- 
toria Street,  Jingle  drops  into  the  Club  some- 
times, the  Baxters  of  the  immortal  "Seven- 
teen" live  near  me  and  I  often  see  Leacock's 
Dean  Drone  on  Avenue  Road. 

In  other  words,  I  read  that  I  may  under- 
stand life  better  and  make  friendships — that 
most  desirable  of  all  earthly  things.  Friends 
are  the  greatest  asset  in  the  world — if  you 
don't  use  them — and  the  friends  in  books  are 
not  usable  but  merely  enjoyable  and  inspiring. 
And  when  two  of  us  meet  who  have  read  the 
same  book  with  pleasure  we  take  a  keen  de- 
light in  talking  of  "our  mutual  friends" 
for  they  are  his  as  well  as  mine,  and  often  he 
and  I  understand  each  other  better  because  of 
our  mutual  friends. 

Indeed,  we  who  are  older  and  getting  older 
ought  to  read,  I  suppose,  like  boys  and  girls 
who  believe  in  the  reality  of  the  characters  de- 
scribed, who  live  the  lives  of  those  characters, 
especially  those  who  do  something,  conquer 
somebody  or  something,  and  who  dislike  so 
much  the  disillusionment  indulged  in  by  some 
older  person  who  takes  the  joy  out  of  life  by 
saying  that  "it  is  only  a  story  and  never  hap- 

The  practical  question  back  of  all  this  is  the 
lack  of  opportunity  with  so  many  to  become 
acquainted  with  these  desirable  persons.  In 
many  places  there  are  but  few  books,  and  in 
many  other  places  there  are  no  persons  to 
introduce  us  to  these  desirable  and  interesting 
books.  The  loneliest  place  in  the  world  is  a 
big  city.    One  reason  is  that  there  are  so  many 

January,  L919. 

CANADIAN    BOOK  l/.i.\ 


possibilities  Eor  pleasure  if  one  could  011I3    be 

introduced    to   One   or   two,  and    thus   effect    an 

entrance.  Even  so  in  the  big  world  of  books 

where  eaeli  year  we  have  so  many  books  de- 
siring to  be  received  into  good  book  society 
where  there  will  be  immortality.  Some  few 
are  desirable,  many  more  are  too  ordinary  to 
be  of  more  than  passing  interest,  and  still 
others   are   only   flashy   imitations. 

A  public  library  is  the  great  world  of  books 
where  only  the  vieious  and  needlessly  vulgar 
are  excluded.  The  ordinary  rubs  shoulders 
with  the  "high-brow"  and  one  is  sure  in  such 
a  cosmopolitan  crowd  to  find  some  of  his 
.  friends.  It  may  have  the  defect  of  its  virtues, 
however,  in  that  its  organization  has  so  far 
found  difficulty  in  doing  more  than  merely 
furnishing  the  place  where  one  may  meet  the 
people  in  the  books.  The  ideal,  which  would 
be  reached  quicker  if  the  financial  means  were 
provided,  is  that  there  be  a  mediator  or  intro- 
ducer between  the  visitor  or  newcomer  and 
the  "inhabitants"  of  the  shelves.  The  re- 
viewer in  the  old  time  journals  used  to  do 
something  towards  that  end,  but  he  is  almost 
extinct.  Certainly  his  imitator  in  our  daily 
press  is  but  a  forty-ninth  cousin  so  far  as  in- 
tellectual relationship  is  concerned,  and  he 
smacks  too  often  of  the  business  and  the  ad- 
vertising pages. 

My  greatest  pleasure  is  to  introduce  some 
person  of  my  acquaintance  to  some  of  my 
"book-fellows,"  and  when  I  find  a  chap,  say 
like  Archibald  Marshall,  who  takes  me  away 
from  my  surroundings  and  introduces  me  to  a 
lot  of  charming  people  in  a  different  environ- 
ment, I  cannot  rest  until  I  tell  some  person  of 
the  pleasant  company  in  which  I  spent  last 
evening.  He  says,  "What  were  they  like?" 
and  I  tell  him  just  enough  to  interest  him 
and  not  enough  to  satisfy  him. 

I  recognize  that  some  persons  would  not  be 
at  home  in  their  company,  and  therefore  I 
must  exercise  discretion.  Not  long  ago  I  met 
two  men.  one  of  whom  asked  me  if  I  had  read 
anything  very  interesting  lately.  I  recom- 
mended a  book  which  contained  characters 
which  I  thought  would  interest  him.  Not  long 
afterwards  I  met  his  companion,  and  he  up- 
braided me  with  poor  judgment,  for  he  had 
procured  the  book  I  had  recommended,  and 
had  found  it  deadly  dull.  My  answer  was 
that  I  was  not  at  all  surprised.  If  he  would 
recall  the  circumstances,  he  would  remember 
that  I  had  not  recommended  the  book  to  him, 
but  to  his  companion. 

I  am  supposed  to  know  something  of  circu- 

lation  of  books,  as  the  chief  Librarian  of  the 
largest  library  system  in  our  country,  and 
more  and  more  I  am  convinced  that  there  are 

thousands  id'  persons  Longing  to  break  into 
book  fellowship,  hut  there  are  not  those  who 
can  and  will  introduce  them;  so  that  they  will 
enjoy    the   Mieiety.     I   try  it  every  year  with 

some  s| ial  author,  anil  so  far  with  very  grati 

fying   resulta 

Out  of  the  Storm 

FIERCE  threatenings  stand  in  the  sky  to- 
Fear  uncouth  in  the  sky — 
Garner   0   morn   thy  sovran   light 
For  my  love's  sleep! 

Waters  of  drowning  beat  on  my  brain, 

Flung  sheer  out  of  the  sky — 
Soft  as  the  hum  of  a  fairy  rain    ^ 

Soothe  my  love's  sleep! 

Sweep  the  clouds  out  of  the  sky,  dread  wind, 

Dead  weight  out  of  the  sky — 
With  hushed  feet  thread  the  lanes  star-lined 

Of  my  love's  sleep 

Sword  of  God !  hast  reft  me  of  sight 

Flashing  dire  from  the  sky? 
Strike   if   thou   must   with   merciful   might 

Through  my  love's  sleep! 

All  the  night's  wrath  have  I  watched  and  live, 

Deepen 'ng  wrath   in   the   sky — • 
Age-loved  Night !  some  mother-touch  give 

To  my  love's  sleep! 

At  last  a  wan  light,  a  tremor  of  death, 

Fainting  flush  in  the  sky — 
Die  away  painless,  fluttering  breath, 

In  my  love 's  sleep  ! 

Believe  it  is  hope  that  is  born,  mad  brain — 

God's  face  dim  in  the  sky! 
Break  0  dawn !  with  aureoled  pain 

Arch  my  love's  sleep! 

By  day  it  seems  such  a  little  thing — 

Night  and  a  haunted  sky; 
But  Death  or  Life  it  bore  on  its  wing 

To  my  love's  sleep. 

J.  A.  Dale. 



-January,  191!). 

Clio  in  Canada,  1918 

By  W.  S.  WALLACE 

HISTORICAL  studies  in  Canada  have  always 
been  vigorous.  Canadians  have  taken  an 
interest  in  their  country's  past  that  has 
been  in  some  respects  exceptional.  Since  the 
outbreak  of  the  Great  War,  however,  this  inter- 
est has  somewhat  waned.  The  all-absorbing  de- 
mands of  the  present,  the  enlistment  in  the  army 
of  some  of  the  younger  historians,  the  high  cost 
of  printing  and  paper — all  these  have  combined 
to  produce  a  slump  in  the  output  of  Canadian 
historical  literature.  During  1918  this  slum 
has  been  especially  marked.  It  is  significant 
that  during  1918  the  Champlain  Society,  which 
for  many  years  now  has  issued  annually  one  or 
two  volumes  of  first-class  importance  for  Can- 
adian history,  has  ceased  publication  for  the 
time  being;  and  even  the  veteran  "Review  of 
Historical  Publications  Relating  to  Canada," 
which  has  attained  its  twenty-first  birthday, 
has  contented  itself  this  year  with  issuing 
merely  an  index  of  previous  volumes. 

The  year,  however,  has  not  been  barren.  In 
the  sphere  of  polities  and  government,  Mr.  Ed- 
ward Porritt  has  published  his  "Evolution  of 
the  Dominion  of  Canada."  An  aftermath  of  the 
harvest  of  books  published  in  1917,  celebrating 
the  fiftieth  year  of  Confederation,  has  appeared 
in  the  Abbe  Groulx's  "La  Confederation  Can- 
adiennr."  and  in  Mr.  Gosnell's  "  Fifty  Years  of 
Confederation,"  a  collection  of  newspaper 
sketches.  Two  books  of  a  narrower  appeal  are 
Professor  W.  P.  M.  Kennedy's  "Documents  of 
the  Canadian  Constitution,"  and  Professor  Le- 
froy's  "A  Short  Treatise  on  Canadian  Consti- 
tutional Law,"  which  contains  an  admirable 
historical  introduction  by  Professor  Kennedy. 
In  the  field  of  general  history,  a  book  of  con- 
siderable importance  is  the  Rev.  R.  G.  MacBeth  's 
"The  Romance  of  Western  Canada";  and  two 
books  of  unusual  iuterest  just  issued  are  Pro- 
fessor George  M.  Wrong's  "The  Conquest  of 
New  France,"  and  Professor  W.  B.  Munro's 
"Crusaders  of  New  France."  Unfortunately, 
these  last  two  books  are  published  in  a  series  of 
fifty  volumes,  entitled  "The  Chronicles  of  Am- 
erica," published  by  the  Yale  University  Press, 
and  cannot  be  procured  except  in  the  set.  Last- 
ly, there  are  the  books  about  the  war.  The  third 
volume  of  "Canada  in  Flanders,"  which  has 
been  written  by  Major  Charles  G.  D.  Roberts,  is 
now  published;  a  most  informing  pamphlet, 
entitled  "Canada's  War  Effort,  1914-1918," 
has  been  issued  by  the  Director  of  Public  In- 
formation at  Ottawa  ;  and  a  rapidly  growing 
list  of  books  embodying  the  experiences  of  re- 
turned Canadian  soldiers,  repatriated  prisoners, 
and  war  correspondents  has  seen  the  light.  These 
books  are  the  raw  material  of  history;  but  per- 
haps they  do  not  fall  strictly  within  the  spher  • 
of  this  survey. 

The  most  important  of  these  books  is  perhaps 
Mr.  Porritt'-  "Evolution    of  the   Dominion    of 

Canada,"*  more  on  account  of  the  possi- 
r.ilities  latent  in  it  than  on  account  of  wnai  ii 
actually  achieves.  It  is  not  an  easy  book  to  re- 
view, because  oue  cannot  be  quite  certain  of  the 
goal  which  the  author  has  set  before  him.  I4" 
his  aim  was  to  write  a  handbook  of  Canadian 
Government,  he  has  included  in  his  pages  much 
more  than  was  necessary,  if  indeed  books  like 
Lord  Bryce's  "The  American  Commonwealth" 
or  President  Lowell's  "The  Government  of 
England"  may  be  taken  as  criteria.  A  good 
deal  of  the  book,  for  instance,  is  taken  up  with 
a  historical  sketch  of  Canadian  development. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Porritt 's  object  was 
to  write  a  review  of  Canadian  constitutional  his- 
tory, his  arrow  has  fallen  short  of  the  mark. 
With  him,  Canadian  constitutional  history  be- 
gins, for  some  occult  reason,  at  1783.  He  ig- 
nores those  years  pregnant  with  fate  which  fo'- 
lowed  the  conquest  of  Canada  by  the  British; 
and  he  omits  all  mention  of  the  French  period, 
though  a  knowledge  of  that  period  is  necessary 
to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  Province  of 
Quebec.  One  is  uncertain,  too,  whether  the 
book  was  intended  for  popular  use,  or  for  the 
use  of  students.  If  it  was  intended  for  the  man 
on  the  street,  Mr.  Porritt  might  well  have  omit- 
ted the  foot-notes  with  which  his  pages  are  en- 
cumbered; if  it  was  intended  for  the  student, 
his  references  should  have  been,  not  to  second- 
ary authorities,  but  to  the  sources  of  Canadian 
history.  This  feature  of  his  work  is  indeed  a 
serious  blemish.  When  one  finds  him  leaning 
on  secondary  authorities  like  Miss  Weaver's  "A 
Canadian  History"  or  the  books  published  in 
the  popular  "Chronicles  of  Canada"  series, 
one  begins  to  have  doubts  about  his  method  of 
writing  history.  The  day  is  past  when  tertiary 
authorities  are  deserving  of  respect. 

Mr.  Porritt  is  not  thoroughly  familiar  with 
Canadian  history.  It  may  be  doubted  whether 
Macaulay's  schoolboy  exists  in  Canadian  schools 
to-day  ;  but  if  he  did,  he  at  any  rate  would  know 
better  than  to  credit  Mackenzie  and  Papiueau, 
as  Mr.  Porritt  does  (p.  93),  with  having  advo- 
cated responsible  government  in  Canada  before 
1837.  This  error,  however,  is  pardonable  be- 
side the  statements  that  "military  rule"  ex- 
isted in  Canada  from  1763  to  1774  (p.  66),  and 
that  Prince  Edward  Island  and  British  Colum- 
bia "came  under  the  terms  of  the  British  North 
America  Act"  (p.  211).  These  are  "howlers" 
worthy  of  being  included  in  a  schoolmaster's 
collection.  And  yet,  despite  these  and  many 
other  mistakes,  the  book  is  not  without  a  dis- 
tinct value.  The  chapters  dealing  with  the  gov- 
ernment of  Canada  will  not  be  read  by  any  Can- 
adian, no  matter  how  learned  in  the  law  and 

•"Evolution  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada:  Its  Gov- 
ernment riiel  Its  Politics.''  Bv  Edward  Porritt,  New 
York:      World   Book   Company."    1918.     Pp.  xix,  540. 

January,  1919. 


custom  of  the  constitution,  without  interest  and 
profit.     Ii  often  happens  thai  an  outside  ob 
er  will  see  things  in  a   better  perspective  than 
those  inside.     Mr.  Poi  a  Englishman  li\ 

ing  in  tlic  d  tes,  and  the  unusual  angle 

from  which  he  writes  gives  his  sketch  of  Can 
iuliaii  political  institutions  a  freshness  and  vivid 
uess   uo1    found   certainly    in   sir  John    !■ 
dot's  "How  Canada   is  Governed"  or  in   .Miss 
Agnes  Laut's  •■The  Canadian  Commonwealth," 
the  only  other  two  books  which  attempt  to  cover 
the  same  ground.    If  .Air.  Porritt  had  confined 
himself  to  the  present,  and  had   left   the  pasl 
severely  alone,  his  hook  would  have  been  on  a 
different  plane. 

The  hooks  on  Confederation  by  the  Abbe 
Groulx  and  by  Mr  new. 

and  do  not  require  more  than  mention.  Nor 
dues  Professor  Kennedy's  "Documents  of  the 
Canadian  Constitution"  need  an  extended  no- 
tice. It  is  intended  primarily  for  students  of 
Canadian  constitutional  history,  to  whom  it 
should  be  a  boon,  owing  to  tl  ha1   other 

source-books  of  Canadian  constitutional  history 
are  out  of  print.  Prom  the  standpoint  of  the 
layman,  it  is  a  pity  that  Professor  Kennedy  has 
not  included  in  his  book  a  greater  number  of 
documents  illustrating  the  history  of  the  period 
since  1867.  The  book  then  would  have  had  great 
value  as  a  work  of  reference.  But  in  selecting 
documents  for  a  source-book  of  this  sort,  it  is 
probable  that  no  two  people  would  agree  com- 
pletely ;  and  it  would  be  ungracious  not  to  con- 
fess that  Professor  Kennedy  has  carried  out  a 
very  necessary  and  admirable  task  in  a  way  that 
leaves  few   loopholes  for  criticism. 

"The  Romance  of  Western  Canada "t  is  a 
book  intended  to  be  read  by  him  who  runs.  It 
is  a  plain,  unvarnished,  but  interesting  account 
of  the  history  of  the  Canadian  West.  As  Sir 
John  Willison  points  out  in  his  "Foreword,"  it 
is  vital  that  the  people  of  Eastern  Canada 
should  know  the  history  of  the  West:  and  the 
book  should  be  a  source  of  profit  to  them,  as 
well  as  to  the  people  of  the  West,  for  whom  it 
was  doubtli  3S  primarily  written.  It  is  a  story 
that  is  not  lacking  in  picturesque  elements.  The 
adventures  of  the  early  explorers  and  fur-trad- 
ers, the  struggle  between  the  Hudson's  Bay  men 
and  the  Nor 'westers,  the  founding  of  the  vision- 
ary Selkirk  colony  on  the  Red  River,  the  Kiel 
rebellions,  even  the  mushroom  like  growth  of 
the  West  within  the  last  generation — all  these 
are  instinct  with  drama  and  romance.  Cana- 
dians do  not  perhaps  always  realize  how  for- 
tunate they  are  in  the  possession  of  a  history 
second  to  none  in  those  qualities  which  go  to 
the  making  of  a  striking  and  picturesque  narra- 

For  writing  the  history  of  the  West.  Mr.  Mae- 
Beth  has  unusual  qualifications.  A  son  of  the 
Red  River  colony,  he  has  lived  through  much 

♦"Documents  of  the  Canadian  Constitution.  1759- 
1915."  Selected  ami  Edited  by  W.  P.  M.  Kennedy. 
Toronto:  Oxford  University  Press.  1918.  Pp.  xxxn, 

that    he  describes.      His  I k   has  therefore  some 

what  the  character  of  that  of   an    eye  « iti 
Ten  portraits  of  important    figures  in   western 
history,  such  as  Riel  and  Schultz,  Norqnay  and 
Greenway,  drawn  from  life,  give  his  | 
iginal  value.    At  the  same  time,  he  has  not  neg- 
lected   the    printed    materials    already    avail 
for  the  history  of  the  West.     His  pages  are  not 

indeed    burden,  d.    as    are    those    of    Mr.    I'orritt. 

with  fool  notes  and  bibliographical  references; 
but  every  paragraph  betrays  a  long  and  fami- 
liar knowledge  of  his  subject.  In  a  book  which 
purports  to  survey  the  history  of  the  v 
West,  it  may  perhaps  be  objected  that  Mr.  Mac- 
Beth  has  devoted  undue  spi to  the  history  of 

the  Red  River  colony,  the  importance  of  wl 

in   western    history    may    easily    1 sagger 

But  this  is  natural  and  pardonable  in  a  son  of 
the  colony.  In  view  of  the  cursory  character 
of  some  parts  of  the  book,  one  might  wish  that 
Mr.  MacBeth  had  limited  himself  to  those  pass- 
ages in  western  history  of  which  he  has  had  per- 
sonal knowledge ;  but  in  that  case  we  should 
have  lost  the  advantages  of  having  a  general 
survey.  And  without  doubt  the  advantages  of 
having  a  popular  history  of  Western  Canada 
written  to  some  extent  at  first  hand,  with  the 
vivid  and  veracious  accent  which  such  a  char- 
acter gives  it.  arc  not  be  despised,  especially 
when  it  is  written  also  with  the  rare  charity  and 
impartiality  which  Mr.  MacBeth  everywhere  dis- 
plays. To  the  general  reader  "The  Romance  of 
Western  Canada''  may  be  commended  without 
reserve:  and  even  the  professional  historian  will 
not  find  it  without  value. 

Detailed  reference  to  the  books  on  New 
France  by  Professor  Wrong  and  Professor 
Munro  may  well  be  omitted  here  until  the  en- 
tire series  of  "The  Chronicles  of  America"  is 
published,  when  Professor  Skelton's  '"The  Can- 
adian Dominion,"  to  be  included  in  the  same 
series,  may  also  be  reviewed.  The  general  char- 
acter of  these  books  may  be  indicated  by  saying 
that  they  are  similar  in  type  to  "The  Chronicles 
of  Canada"  published  several  years  ago.  They 
aim  at  telling  the  story,  in  a  manner  at  once 
popular  and  scholarly,  of  some  one  phase  of 
North  American  history. 

In  the  third  volume  of  "Canada  in  Flan- 
ders"* Lord  Beaverbrook  has  handed  over  his 
pen  to  Major  Charles  G.  D.  Roberts.  Major 
Roberts  tells  the  story  of  the  Canadian  Corps 
from  the  arrival  of  the  Fourth  Canadian  Divi- 
sion in  France  in  August.  1016,  to  the  end  of 
the  fighting  on  the  Somme  in  the  late  autumn  of 
that  year.  During  this  period  Major  Roberts 
was  himself  with  the  Canadian  Corps:  and  he 
has  thus  been  able  to  draw,  not  only  on  the 
splendid  collection  of  historical  material  which 
the  Canadian  Record  Office  has  been  making, 
but  also  on  his  personal  observation.  The  book 
suffers,  as  do  its  predecessors,  from  the  obvious 
limitations  under  which  it  has  been  written; 
indeed,  the  remarkable  thing  is  that  it  has  been 
possible  to  write  it  at  all.     Canada  is  the  only 

t"Th£  Romance  of  Western  Canada."  by  B.  G. 
MacBeth.  Toronto:  "William  Brlggs.  191*.  Pp.  xii, 
209.     $1.50. 

•"Canada  in  Flanders."  Volume  III.  By  Major 
Charles  G.  P.  Boberts.  With  a  Preface  by  Lord 
Beaverbrook.  Toronto:  Ho.lder  and  Stoughton.  1918. 
Pp.  xiv,  144. 



January,  1019. 

country  which  has  attempted,  during  the  actual 
progress  of  hostilities,  to  publish  an  official  ac- 
count of  the  fighting  in  which  her  troops  have 
been  engaged.  There  must  be  an  interesting 
story  behind  the  publication  of  these  books, 
when  one  considers  the  rigorous  censorship 
which  has  elsewhere  wrapped  the  details  of  the 
war  in  obscurity. 

Major  Roberts'  volume  is  a  distinct  improve- 
ment on  it  predecessors.  There  is  in  it  none  of 
that  fulsome  flattery  of  prominent  officers  and 
politicians  which  marred  the  first  volume  of 
' '  Canada  in  Flanders. ' '  As  might  be  expected, 
the  book  is  written  in  fine  nervous  English. 
The  style  is,  if  anything,  a  trifle  reserved; 
though  here  and  there  Major  Roberts  opens  out 
into  a  purple  passage,  such  as  that  describing 
the  appearance  of  one  of  the  "Tanks"  at  Cour- 
celette,     which     deserves     to     become     classic. 

Human  details  abound.  The  fickle  fortunes  of 
war  are  well  illustrated  in  the  story  of  the  raid 
which  nearly  miscarried  because  "the  bugler 
who  was  to  have  sounded  the  signal  to  retire 
fell  into  an  exceedingly  muddy  and  unsavoury 
shell-hole  and  lost  his  bugle."  One  can  see  that 
bugler  in  the  mind's  eye.  One  likes,  too,  the 
story  about  the  Canadian  soldier,  covered  with 
Somme  mud  and  soaked  with  Somme  rain,  who, 
when  challenged  by  a  sentry's  "Halt.  Who  goes 
there?"  grunted,  "Submarine  U  13."  When 
one  remembers  how  much  there  must  have  been 
that  Major  Roberts  would  have  liked  to  say, 
but  has  not  been  able  to  say,  his  volume  begins 
to  assume  the  character  of  a  tour  de  force. 

Such  are  the  chief  contributions  which  the 
year  1918  has  made  to  Canadian  history.  It  is 
not  perhaps  a  notable  list ;  but  in  war  time  we 
must  be  content  with  small  mercies. 

A  Desirable  Compromise 


ELODY    scarcely    allowed, 
Discords  the  whole  of  the  way, 
Such  is  "Good  Music"  to-day, 
Dull,  and  precipitous-browed. 

Sentiment,  pathos  gone  wrong, 
Soft  as  the  brain  of  a  sheep, 
Pretty,  and  vulgar — and  cheap. 

This  is  the  Popular  Song. 

Why  are  composers  to-day 
Sloppy,  or  dry  as  a  prune? 
Oh,  for  a  Schubert-y  tune 

Set  in  a  Modernist  way! 

J.  E.  Middleton. 

For  War  Doubts 

Life  is  a  little  section  square, 

Cut  from  a  picture  vast  and  rare. 

If  we  could  see  the  whole  design 
We  would  not  change  a  single  line. 

— W.  D.  Lighthall. 

January,   I'.H'J. 



Canadian  Publishers  and  War 



ONE  often  hears  the  "man  in  the  street," 
that  vague  and  elfin  maker  of  pronuncia- 
memtos,  declare,  with  an  Injured  air,  that 
America  has  shown  her  Knowledge  of  the  value 
and  effect  of  war  propaganda,  '"it  that  Canada 
has  lagged  far  behind.  Every  possible  force 
towards  the  securing  of  :i  national  will  to 
trounce  Germany  has  been  harnessed  by  the 
directors  of  propaganda  in  the  United  States, 
our  informant  goes  on.  Moving  pictures,  per- 
iodicals, transportation,  theatre,  pulpit,  daily 
press. — those  in  control  of  these  have  set  their 
hand  and  seal  to  a  definite  and  direct  course 
heading  propaganda- wards — down  there.  In 
Canada,  alas  and  alack — and  here  the  injured 
one  shakes  his  head  as  he  visualizes  his  coun- 
try going  to  the  demnition  bow-wows — we  do 
not  know  the  art  of  propaganda:  we  do  not  re- 
cognize its  tremendous  worth :  we  do  not  gauge 
its  importance  as  a  weapon  in  our  national  ar- 
moury, and  so  on. 

Canadian  publishers  of  books,  however,  beg 
to  be  excused  from  taking  the  count.  They 
don't  agree.  They  think  that  so  far  as  propa- 
ganda along  effectual  lines  is  concerned  they . 
have  done  their  bit.  An  examination  of  the 
facts  seems  to  substantiate  their  contention. 

In  over  four  years  of  wTar  Canadian  publish- 
ers have  distributed  probably  at  least  one  thous- 
and different  war  books,  all  of  which  have  had 
sales  varying  from  one  hundred  only  to  twenty- 
five,  thirty  and  forty  thousand — old  books  and 
new  books,  wise  books  and  foolish  books,  books 
intimately  connected  with  and  bearing  on  the 
Great  "War  and  books  that  had  no  possible  re- 
lation whatsoever.  In  fact,  anything  that  men- 
tioned war,  this  war  or  any  war,  was  a  war 
book.  As  Canada  was  in  the  war,  Canadian 
publishers  followed  suit.  For  Fall  and  Spring 
and  Fall  and  Spring  and  Fall,  bringing  us  to 
the  end  of  1916,  war  books  had  their  innings. 
The  public  tired :  it  was  the  weariness  that 
comes  from  over-feeding.  But  shortly  America 
was  to  join  the  Allies,  and  Canadian  publishers, 
to  oblige  their  American  connections,  urged  a 
renewal  of  the  diet  of  war  books.  American 
publishers  sold  war  books  by  the  hundred  thous- 
and— they  had  just  entered  the  war.  Canadian 
houses  counted  themselves  fortunate,  in  most 
cases,  to  sell  them  by  the  thousand.  The  reason 
is  patent.  They  had  done  their  part  as  propa- 
gandists at  a  time  when  propaganda  counted, 
and  though  their  work  in  this  cause  did  not 
cease  till  the  war  was  over,  the  part  that  re- 
mained was  not  so  vital  in  importance.  The 
prime  need  was  men :  it  is  conceivable  that  a, 

potential  aid  to  their  securing  and  drumming- 
up  was  the  sale  of  a  certain  few  books,  and  par- 
ticularly in  tin'  early  months  of  the  war. 

War-time  book  publishing  which  has  con- 
tributed to  propaganda  effort  may  be  divided 
into  six  main  classes, 

1.  Books  detailing  the  argument  for  the 
Great  War. 

2.  Books  of  adventure  and  experience. 

3.  Books  which  were  concerned  to  discover 
the  Allies  to  the  World. 

4.  Books  reflecting   personal    emotion. 

5.  Books  depicting  the  humorous  side  of 

6.  Books  developing  the  national  attitude  to 
Peace  and   Reconstruction. 

In  the  first  of  these  classes  come  books  like 
Sir  Edward  Cook's  "Why  the  .Empire  is  at 
War";  "Germany  and  the  Next  War"  by  Bern- 
hardt Grave's  "Secrets  of  the  German  War 
Office"  (since  much  discredited  but  invaluable 
propaganda  in  its  way).  These  two  or  three  are 
each  types  of  large  numbers  of  titles  which,  in 
1915,  the  Canadian  public  read  with  avidity. 
The  succinct,  simple  and  complete  statement 
of  Sir  Edward  Cook  as  to  British  war  aims, 
printed  in  both  French  and  English,  was  pro- 
paganda of  a  very  real  kind  indeed.  The  bra?- 
adoccio  quality  wf  Bernhardi's  book  inspired 
the  reader  to  a  personal  share  in  the  task  of 
settling  forever  all  that  kind  of  talk. 

In  the  second  class,  books  of  adventure  and 
experience,  there  have  been  books  touching  on 
every  phase  of  the  war.  The  books  of  "Taff- 
rail"  and  "Bartimeus"  in  their  way  are  epics 
of  the  splendid  part  the  British  Navy  was 
playing,  particularly  in  the  opening  months. 
"My  First  Year  of  the  War."  Frederick  Palm- 
er's book,  which  had  an  amazing  popularity, 
could  not  but  stir  the  souls  of  men  and  impel 
them  to  some  sort  of  effort.  "Kitchener's 
Mob"  by  James  Norman  Hall  told  yet  another 
story  of  the  brave  and  srallant  gentlemen  who 
saved  France  and  also  England  at  the  Batt1^ 
of  the  Marne.  Empey,  a  brutish  looking  ser- 
geant, thrilled  fifty  thousand  Canadian  readers 
by  his  "Over  the  Top."  a  book  that  tore  the 
heart  out  of  the  personal  experience  of  the  com- 
mon soldier  in  the  trench.  Indisputably  his 
book  made  many  men  make  the  decision  that  re- 
sulted in  the  donning  of  khaki.  "Private  Peat" 
was  more  ladylike  in  his  treatment  of  the  same 
theme,  but  he  counted  his  readers  in  Canada 
by  the  tens  of  thousands.  George  Pearson's 
"Escape  of  a  Princess  Pat" — one  of  the  finest 
pieces  of  descriptive    writing  in    these  many 



January,  1919. 

years— immortalised  those  first  Canadians  in 
the  war. 

Books  in  this  class,  of  course,  are  more  numer- 
ous than  in  any  other.  There  was  excuse  for 
most;  reason  for  some,  and  all  had  the  effect 
of  harping  on  the  one  theme:  that  those  they 
told  of  were  doing  their  bit.  The  inferred  in- 
terrogation was  "What  about  you?"  Certain- 
ly in  the  very  fact  of  publishing  such  books  Can- 
adian publishers  were  indisputably  doing  pro- 
paganda work  that  counted. 

Of  books  which  attempted  to  clear  up  evident 
errors  in  the  minds  of  neutrals — notably  the 
United  States  before  its  entry— as  to  the  reason 
for  the  Allies  being  at  war,  their  part  in  the 
work  and  their  way  of  bearing  and  doing  their 
part,  there  were  not  enough. 

An  outstanding  example  of  this  class  was  H. 
G.  Wells's  "Mr,  Britling  Sees  it  Through," 
probably  the  sincerest  bit  of  work  that  Wells 
ever  did.  "Mr.  Britling."  I  venture  to  think, 
discovered  England  and  the  English  to  Ameri- 
ca. It  dwelt  alike  on  their  drawbacks,  their 
foibles,  their  blunders,  and  their  magnificent 
and  wholehearted  effort.  It  might  have  been 
written  by  an  outsider  who  is  commonly  sup- 
posed to  see  most  of  the  game,  so  shrewd,  so 
meticulously  truthful,  so  character-faithful 
was  it,  "Christine,"  by  Alice  Cholmondeley, 
was  another  book  whose  propaganda  value  along 
this  same  line  was  immense.  It  showed  the  Eng- 
lishwoman for  what  she  was  against  the  back- 
ground of  the  German  mind  and  character. 
Margaret  Sherwood's  "Worn  Doorstep,"  "A 
Hill  top  on  the  Marne"  by  Mildred  Aldrich, 
and  a  few  others  all  contributed  to  this  end.  It 
is  important  to  remember  that  fiction  played  its 
part.  "Changing  Winds,"  by  St.  John  Ervine, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  character  analy- 
sis, it  contained,  possibly  belongs  in  the  second 
class  of  which  I  have  spoken.  But  it  was  in- 
directly  the  means  of  telling  the  truth  about 
the  Irish  and  the  English  in  war  time,  and  as 
such  belongs  in  this  third  class.  So  does  Mary 
Sinclair's  "The  Tree  of  Heaven,"  one  of  the 
greatest  novels  of  oilr  time ;  we  shall  see  it  as 
such  when  we  get  away  from  these  stressful 

This  class  could  not  be  disposed  of  without 
mention  of  Ian  Hay's  invaluable  propagandist 
book  "Getting  Together."  Its  author  saw  that 
the  United  States  misunderstood  the  attitude  of 
England  and  the  English.  He  set  to  work  and 
wrote  a  book  which  had  an  appreciable  effect 
towards  the  end  of  sweeping  away  this  misun- 

There  are  many  other  books  which  helped 
along  this  line  of  discovering  the  purpose  and 
aim  of  the  early  Allies,  notably  Britain.  Can- 
ada needed  and  therefore  heeded  such  books. 

In  the  fourth  class,  books  of  verse  had  an  im- 
portant place.  The  poignancy  of  Rupert 
Brooke's  poetry,  in  view  of  his  death,  touched 
the  world.  John  McCrae's  "In  Flanders  Field" 
rang  through  two  hemispheres.  Bernard  Trot- 
ter,  in   his   "Canadian    Twilight"    and     other 

poems,  verse  of  exceptional  merit,  and  Alan 
Seeger  in  his  poetry,  notably  "I  have  a  ren- 
dezvous with  Death,"  stirred  readers' in  their 
respective  countries  to  a  sense  of  the  high  call- 
ing of  which  these  sang  so  strikingly.  Along 
another  line  Harold  Begbie's  verse  "Fighting 
Lines"  and,  much  more  lately,  Douglas  Dur- 
kin's  "The  Fighting  Men  of  Canada,"  sal 
glory  of  the  rank  and  file  in  stirring  fashion. 
In  prose  Henri  Barbusse,  whose  "Le  Feu"  had 
an  extraordinary  sale,  made  us  aware  of  the  very 
filth  and  smell  of  warfare  as  the  French  poiltt 
knew  it.  The  book  had  its  place  as  propaganda. 
This  class  contained  perhaps  the  most  effective 
propagandist  books  of  any.  singe  they  appealed 
to  the  intellect.  They  were  for  the  men  of  think- 
ing mind.  They  dealt  not  so  much  with  the  ac- 
tualities of  warfare  as  with  the  thoughts  and 
impulses  and  emotions  of  those  making  war,  in- 
dividually each  in  his  own  corner  of  the  world 

Empey  in  "Over  the  Top"  may  be  said — if  a 
vulgarism  is  permitted — to  have  "got  them  go- 
ing." But  the  soldier-poets  laid  bare  their  in- 
most thoughts;  their  message  was  for  the  stu- 
dents and  thinkers. 

Very  valuable  propaganda  indeed  has  been 
Bairnsfather's  work,  as  a  cartoonist,  now  pub- 
lished in  five  books.  It  was  necessary  that  the 
lighter  side  of  war  be  seen.  There  is  a  comical 
and  humorous  viewpoint  as  the  soldier  and  sail- 
or know,  and  Bairnsfather's  drawings  and 
Edward  Streeter's  "Dere  Mabel"  did  their  part 
in  emphasising  it.  Books  in  this  class  are  few, 
but  in  putting  them  out  publishers  achieved  re- 
sults as  propagandists. 

The  fifth  class  is  important  and  daily  grow- 
ing more  so.  To  it  belong  such  titles  as  Mr. 
Wells's  "In  the  Fourth  Year  of  the  War,"  per- 
haps the  sanest  pronouncement  on  the  attitude 
of  the  people  composing  the  Allied  nations  to- 
wards Peace.  Theodore  Marburg's  "Lea Erne 
of  Nations"  books  and  Mr.  Dillon's  "Eclipse 
of  Russia"  are  two  among  many  scores  of  pub- 
lications discussintr  post-war  problems.  The  fu- 
ture will  bring  many  more,  one  ventures  to 
think,  as  it  is  bound  to  bring  a  good  deal  of 
matter  referring  to  the  place  in  the  sun,  which 
the  new  Germany  is  to  be  permitted  to  hold. 

It  should  be  said,  in  conclusion,  that  the  pro- 
paganda work  done  by  Canadian  publishers  has 
not  been  entirely  haphazard.  There  has  been 
plan  and  method  in  the  decision  to  accept  or  re- 
fuse the  average  war  book,  and  in  the  decision 
the  fact  of  usefulness  or  uselessness  from  a  pro- 
paganda standpoint  has  undoubtedly  been  a 
factor.  The  publishers  might  have  paraphrased 
the  saying  of  the  old  singer  as  to  the  relative 
value  of  hymns  and  laws  and  cried:  "Let  us 
make  the  reading  of  the  people,  we  care  not  — ' 
makes  the  laws."  They  have  treated  their  call- 
ing in  these  war  years  as  a  serious  one  and  a 
high,  and  without  their  efforts  the  light  of  pro- 
paganda could  not  have  shone  to  half  the  pur- 
pose it  has  shone. 

January,  1919. 



H.  G.  Wells  Again  Incandescent 

By  J.  A.  DALE 

TIIK  fiction  of  to-day  is  turning  its  atten 
tion  very  gravelj  to  education.  Some 
'it'  the  mosl  remarkable  of  recent  n  ivels 
"in  to  reveal  the  building-up  or  under- 
mining l  of  i  baracter  and  mind,  in  read  i 
the  swiftly  changing  circumstances  of  the  last 
few  years.  A  whole  school  of  brilliant  writers 
have  vividly  portrayed  the  growing  pains  of 
modern  youth,  undergoing  the  process  I'  edu- 
cation in  institutions  [ess  responsive  than  they 
to  change.  Never  has  there  been  an  age  so 
documented  as  this,  so  consciously  and  volum- 
inously recorded,  thanks  largely  to  the  writ- 
ers of  fiction.  The  future  historian  of  our 
time  will  find  sonic  of  his  most  living  material 
in  the  records  of  sharp  and  subtle  changes  of 
atmosphere,  in  that  most  sensitive  medium,  the 
mind  of  youth. 

Here  is  a  subject  made  for  Mr.  Wells.  And 
now.  too.  is  the  moment  suited  to  his  genius 
when  young  and  old  (both  ideas  and  people) 
are  suddenly  halted  as  by  a  sentry  on  the  way 
they  were  carelessly  treading.  Of  course  many 
(people  and  ideas)  will  slink  by  :  but  Mr.  Wells 
has  both  the  determination  ami  the  skill  to 
make  us  face  the  facts  as  he  very  earnestly 
sees  them.  This  goes  to  the  root  of  Mr.  Wells' 
success  in  this  remarkable  book.  The  pano- 
rama of  society  leaves  a  photographic,  bio- 
graphic, record  on  his  mind.  His  observation 
is  so  alert  and  his  memory  so  crowded  that, 
without  his  immense  energy,  his  store  of  ex- 
perience would  be  a  mere  welter — at  best  an 
inexhaustible  fund  of  anecdote.  T  have  used 
the  word  ''genius"  of  this  book.  "Joan  and 
Peter.**  The  justification  could  not  be  better 
said  than  in  the  famous  passage  of  Coleridge: 
"To  carry  on  the  feelings  of  childhood  into 
the  powers  of  manhood;  to  combine  the  child's 
sense  of  wonder  and  novelty  with  the  appear- 
ances which  every  day  for  perhaps  forty 
years  had  rendered  familiar  .  .  .  that  is 
the  character  and  privilege  of  genius,  and  one 
of  the  marks  which  distinguish  genius  from 
talents.'*  Mr.  Wells"  observation  is  as  fresh. 
as  restless,  as  completely  absorbed  and  as  eas- 
ily distracted,  as  a  child's.  But  with  all  this 
apparent  incontinence  of  interest,  there  is  the 
scientist's  sense  of  the  immanence  of  great 
principles  in  little  things:  and  there  is  (though 
to  a  less  extent  I  the  artist's  sense  of  their  rele- 
vance to  his  composition.  And  behind  all  is 
a  resolute,  persistent,  passionate  ardour  for  the 
welfare  of  humanity. 

Judged  simply  as  a  story,  the  plot  marches 
firmly  and  clearly  throughout,  without  any 
of  those  violent  unnatural  expedients  which 
Mr.  Dixon  Scotl  in  the  case  of  "Marriage") 
justly  called  "artless."  It  is  full  of  interest 
and  excitement,  with  many  a  deft  and  happy 
touch.    Some  of  its  episodes  are  masterly;  such 

as    Peter's    flying,   -loan's   dancing,   ami      the 

scenes   in   which    Wilmington   and  -loan   bring 

er  to   his  senses.     Indeed    in   the   personal 

relations   n,   which   the  ordinary   novel   would 

its   attention,    the   central    characters 

form  a  moving  study,  much  of  it  done  without 
ous  ulterior  motive,  and  with  an  extreme- 
ly sensitive  sympathy.  -loan  is  a  true  hero- 
ine, drawn  with  insight  and  tenderness  and 
strength,  and  in  the  working  out  of  her  rela- 
t'on  t'i  Peter  .Mr.  Wells  has  dealt  successfully 
with  a  difficult  psychological  problem  in  very 
concrete  terms.  Many  of  the  minor  characters 
arc  drawn  with  zest  and  skill,  with  the  author's 
old  wealth. of  resource  in  satire,  comedy  and 
farce.  Mr.  Wells  makes  little  further  addition 
here  to  his  series  of  studies  in  sex  pathology; 
his  deep  and  practised  sensitiveness  to  the  sex- 
ual under  and  over  tones  stands  him  in  better  He  has  drawn  with  clean  justice  and 
reverence  a  normal  woman  in  her  relations  to 
men.  in  Dolly  and  Joan;  while  the  distaste  of 
Oswald  and  -loan  and  Wilmingtdn  for  mere 
vicious  indulgence  sets  the  whole  matter  in  a 
more  wholesome  perspective,  the  benefit  of 
which  it  is  obvious  that  Mr.  Wells  himself 

Mr.  Wells  then  gives  us  full  measure  in  his 
story.  Its  epic  scale  is  due  to  the  fact,  that 
the  influences  moulding  the  lives  of  his  char- 
acters are  realised  as  moulding  the  fate  of 
society,  especially  of  England,  and  the  Brit- 
ish Empire.  This  gives  him  his  chance  for 
frank  pamphleteerng  which  is  bound  to  be 
very  annoying  to  many  of  his  readers,  and 
intolerable  to  some.  Like  his  own  Oswald  he 
turns  a  fierce  red  eye  (the  effect  is  greatly 
enhanced  by  its  being  om  eye!  on  his  con- 
temporaries. Probably  there  is  no  reader  who 
will  not  find  some  source  of  irritation  in 
these  tirades;  but  it  is  the  critic's  business  (and 
the  wise  reader's  advantage)  to  keep  his  tem- 
per and  arrive  at  a  sound  judgment.  The 
11  vel  is  an  improvisation,  much  of  it  masterly 
in  the  extreme,  and  unerring  in  literary  skill ; 
but  sometmes  careless,  and  more  often  incom- 
lv  worked  out.  Even  for  Mr.  Wells' 
swiftly  moving  thought  and  instantaneous  vis- 
ualisation, the  actual  amount  of  time  spent  in 
writing  this  too  long  novel  has  been  too  short, 
and  the  success  of  his  workmanship  follows 
the  variations  of  his  mastery  over  the  particu- 
lar material  in  hand.  Much  of  this  belongs  to 
the  atmosphere  of  what  Mr.  Dixon  Scott  called 
ieties  for  scolding  Society."  in  which  Mr. 
Wells,  like  Mr.  Shaw,  was  brought  up. 

Much  more  essential,  however,  is  what  I 
am  tempted  to  call,  the  modesty  of  Mr.  Wells. 
He  is  of  course  a  radical  in  type:  take  this 
known  fact,  and  the  present  book,  as  data.  He 
takes  as  his  angle  of  vision  a  clearly  defined 



January,  1919. 

character  with  a  verifiable  set  of  opinions, 
and  tries  it  out  against  the  actualites.  Oswald, 
by  his  education  in  the  Navy  and  in  Africa, 
and  by  his  mutilation  in  the  heroic  deed  which 
gained  him  the  V.C.,  is  set  apart  from  the  or- 
dinary influences  which  mould  the  minds  of 
people  brought  up  (like  the  class  to  which  he 
belongs)  in  a  fixed  circle  of  conventions. 
Still  further  removed  by  long  absence  and  all- 
absorbing  work,  he  returns  to  look  at  English 
society,  at  once  with  detachment  and  with  a 
passionately  clear  ideal  of  the  imperial  des- 
tiny. The  situation  immediately  becomes  con- 
crete. He  is  not  a  mere  critical  spectator.  He 
has  to  provide,  within  the  resources  of  Eng- 
lish society  and  education  for  his  wards  Joan 
and  Peter — an  education  which  shall  prepare 
them  for  their  share  in  the  imperial  heritage 
of  privilege  and  responsibility.  This  is  the  cen- 
tral theme.  By  the  accidents  of  orphanage 
and  birth  Joan  and  Peter  are  similarly  cut 
off,  and  their  isolation  is  admirably  depicted. 
It  would  be  hard  to  find  more  excellent  and 
appealing  studies  of  childhood,  in  its  inar- 
ticulateness and  helplessness,  yet  in  the  imag- 
inative completeness  of  its  world;  all  the  fas- 
cinating interplay  of  dependence  and  inde- 
pendence. Having  thus  set  his  characters  he 
leaves  them  to  puzzle  it  out  in  the  complex 
situations  of  their  environment — puzzle  it  out 
as  so  many  of  heroes  have  done,  as  Mr.  Wells 
has  done  himself,  through  a  long  career  of 
thinking  aloud  in  the  hearing  of  the  public. 

It  would  certainly  be  a  paradox  to  say  that 
Mr.  Wells  is  not  positive.  But  it  is  as  certain- 
ly true  that  his  fundamental  quality  is  scien- 
tific— the  testing  out  of  hypotheses,  a  never 
defeated,  if  generally  baffled,  research.  Oswald 
and  Peter  will  follow  their  own  experience 
and  character  in  attempting  to  work  out  the 
puzzles  of  life,  and  Mr.  Wells  will  give  them 
every  chance  to  arrive  at  their  different  con- 
elusions.  Even  Peter's  Old  Experimenter  is 
only  one  phase  of  Mr.  Wells'  very  experimental 
God — this  time,  an  image  made  less  in  the 
likeness  of  man  than  a  symbol  of  the  whole 
process  by  which  all  life  adapts  itself  without 
ceasing,  to  environments  only  dimly  under- 
stood, and  only  capriciously  friendly.  It  is  a 
tribute  both  to  Mr.  Wells'  science  and  his  art 
that  the  problems  over  which  he  and  his  char- 
acters are  exercised  are  left  unsolved ;  for  they 
are  the  deepest  of  problems,  and  he  leaves  in- 
tact their  final  quality,  that  their  solution  is 
beyond  us.  Not  that  he  is  without  clues,  both 
in  his  science  which  has  taught  him  what  is 
known  about  the  biological  processes,  and  in 
his  intense  faith  in  the  power  of  knowledge 
and  trained  goodwill.  Mr.  Wells  has  in  some 
of  his  work  shown  a  weakness  for  prophecy; 
perhaps  the  modesty  I  note  here  is  a  recent 
acquisition.    But  even  in  dealing  with  his  main 

theme,  education,   of  which  he  does  know     a 
great  deal,  he  rejects  the  easy  way  of  a  pre- 
mature solution.     It  would  take  far  too  long 
to  follow  Oswald  and  his  wards  on  their  edu- 
cational  pilgrimage,   but  those  who  are  anx- 
ious   about       educational      problems       (they 
must    be    callous   whom   the   war     has     not 
shaken   into    anxiety)    will   find   them    of    ab- 
sorbing interest.     The  criticism  is  bitter  and 
destructive;   but  what  are  the   enemies?  The 
mere  list  shows  how  fundamentally  construc- 
tive the  criticism  must  be.     All  his  batteries 
are  trained  on  stupidity,  self-deception,  cant, 
intolerance,    ignorance,    prejudice.      If   he    at- 
tacks the  schools,  it  is  because  he  sees  in  some 
of  them  these  very  qualities,  fraught  with  dis- 
aster past,  present  and  future,  being  fostered 
in  the  very  institutions  which  should  destroy 
them.     He  blazes  at  the  thought  of  the  lost 
time,  the  lost  power  for  good,  the  fumbling 
incompetence;     "the     generations    going     to 
waste,  like  rapids."    He  knows  that  man  at  his 
best  can  stop  it ;  but  he  knows,  too,  that  we 
have   as  yet   only   "the   faintest    idea   of   the 
possibilities  and  responsibilities  of  education." 
The  general  fogginess  about  what  education 
can   and   ought  to   do,   and  by  what   means — 
the  debate  carried  on  in  vague,  slippery  terms, 
any*  attempt  to  elucidate  which  leads  to  exas- 
peration— all  this  is  well  done.    But  it  is  only 
right  to  add  that  educational  opinion  and  prac- 
tice is  moving,  and  that  some  of  Mr.  Wells' 
school  pictures  already  look  old-fashioned.  For 
the  purpose  of  this  novel  he  has  in  mind  ex- 
clusively the  training  of  those  who  are  des- 
tined to  belong  to  the  "directing  classes" — ■ 
the  natural  point  of  view  of  his  Oswald.  Even 
within  these  limits  he  can  not  convey  a  com- 
plete  idea   of  English   education.        The   Eng- 
lish way  leaves  so  much  to  personal  initiative, 
that  the  discontents  and  aspirations,  becoming 
rapidly  more  articulate  during  the  last  fifteen 
years,  have  bred  a  promising  freedom  and  var- 
riety.    Neither  are  there  any  men  more  worthy 
to  be  called   guardians  than  the  best  type   of 
English    public-schoolmaster,     nor     any    more 
fruitful  nurseries  than  the  old  universities.  One 
of  the  world's  great  undeveloped  sources    of 
"wealth"  is  the  bringing  of  this  personal  in- 
spiration to  the  character  building,  not  of  the 
happy  few,  but  of  every  one  with  the  capacity 
of  response.     Then   the   business   of  the   com- 
monwealth will  be  done  with  more  humanity 
and   better   workmanship — with    fewer   of   the 
mistakes  which   depress  and   anger  not    Mr. 
Wells   only,   and  with   more   of  the  steadfast 
purpose  and  trained  knowledge  which  has  gone 
into   man's   scientific   achievements.     That   is 
the  hope  that  lies  deep  in  Mr.  Wells'  thought 
and   gives  it   its  extraordinary   incandescence, 
("Joan  and  Peter."  by  H.  G.  Wells,  Macmil- 
lan,  Toronto,   $1.75.) 

January,  1919. 




Drums  Afar,"  by  J.  M.  Gibbon 

y}  V  his  second  novel,  bearing  the  resounding 
±J  title  "Drums  Afar."  Mr.  John  Murray 
Gibbon  definitely  establishes  himself  as 
the  most  important  novelist  domiciled  in  Can- 
ada. This  is  a  much  less  sweeping  statement 
than  might  appear  at  first  sight,  for  Canada 
does  not  happen  at  presenl  to  be  the  abiding- 
place  of  any  great  number  of  novel-writers 
whose  importance  extends  beyond  the  narrow 
limits  of  the  cradle-bars  of  the  infantile  Cana- 
dian Novel.  ~Slr.  Gibbon  is  not  a  Canadian,  is 
not  trying  to  write  the  Canadian  Novel,  and  is 
in  no  wise  circumscribed  by  the  cradle-bars. 
Although  living  in  our  midst,  he  writes  honks 
which  belong,  by  all  the  indications  of  style  and 
contents,  to  the  new  Younger  School  of  English 
fiction — and  to  a  Scottish  branch  of  it  ;  and  to 
discuss  him  in  relation  to  Canada  is  merely  to 
evade  the  difficult  task  of  placing  him  in  re- 
lation to  the  other  rising  young  novelists  of 
Great  Britain.  We  must  he  thankful  (to  Pro- 
vidence and  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway'i  that 
we  have  him  in  our  midst,  and  that  he  is  more 
and  more  devoting  his  art  to  Canadian  subject- 
matter;  but  it  would  he  absurd  to  claim  him  as 
a  Canadian  author  or  to  assert  that  his  hooks 
are  the  product  of  a  Canadian  environment.  It 
is  scarcely  likely,  even  should  he  live  here  for 
the  rest  of  his  life,  that  he  will  ever  he  one  of 
the  parents  of  the  Canadian  Novel.  He  may. 
however,  be  one  of  the  obstetricians  assisting  at 
its  hirth;  for  he  is  certainly  helping  Canadian 
writers  to  see  the  pictorial  qualities  and  drama- 
tic values  of  ranch  of  the  current  life  of  our 
country  which  they  have  been  grossly  neglect- 
ing in  their  ill-advised  hunt  for  true  Canadian 
romance  in  the  lonely  wastes  of  the  hinterland 
or  the  vague  and  shadowy  days  of  the  past. 
"Drums  Afar"  makes  the  present-day  life  of 
Montreal  a  part  subject  (not  the  whole  subject. 
hut  quite  an  important  part)  of  a  very  vivid 
and  very  romantic  narrative,  and  puts  the 
Windsor  Hotel  into  current  literature  (perhaps 
into  permanent  literature — who  knows?)  by 
staging  in  one  of  its  luxurious  suites  a  very 
poignant  and  tremendously  human  love -quarrel 
between  an  Oxford  graduate  and  the  daughter 
of  a  Chicago  millionaire.  It  is  typical  of  our 
lack  of  confidence  in  our  own  "atmosphere" 
that  no  Canadian  writer  (even  if  one  of  them 
could  have  written  this  scene  as  well  as  Mr. 
Gibbon)  would  have  dreamed  of  staging  it  in 
such  a  place. 

Novels  concerning  love  and  marriage  between 
an  English  youth  and  an  American  girl  have 
been  plentiful  enough  in  recent  years,  but  none 
of  them,  we  believe,  has  devoted  quite  so  much 
skill  and  care  to  the  portrayal  of  what  the  two 
parties,  and  their  respective  families  and  en- 
tourages, really  think  about  the  other  country 
and  its  institutions  and  manners.  The  real 
theme  of  "Drums  Afar"  is  the  growth  of  un- 
derstanding between   England  and   the  United 

states;  and  Canada  plays  her  pari  chief 

a  mediator  in  the  pr< sa  of  mutual  revelation. 

The  Americans  understand  Canada  in  spite  of 
her  being  British,  and  are  thereby  helped  to  a 
better  understanding  of  the  British  themselves; 
the  Britisher  begins  by  scorning  Canada  Mr 
Gibbon  refrains  from  giving  as  details  of  the 
behavior  of  noisy  Canadians  in  England  prior 
to  1914,  which  gave  rise  to  this  Bcorn,  but  leaves 
room  for  a  horrible  suspicion  that  some  of  our 
des  Scholars  were  in  part  responsible)  and 
ends  by  learning  from  Canada  his  own  weak- 
nesses and  acquiring  a  conception  of  Anglo- 
Saxondom  which  he  could  not  have  obtained 
from  any  number  of  years  in  Oxford.  The  re- 
sult is  a  development  of  mutual  sympathy  and 
understanding  which  is  genuinely  typical  of 
the  process  which  has  been  going  on  in  all  three 
countries  ever  since  the  war  began  to  knead 
them  together. 

The  chief  defect  of  the  novel  is  one  which  is 
common  also  to  "Hearts  and  Faces."  the  au- 
thor's earlier  work,  and  to  not  a  few  of  the 
younger  English  novelists.  It  is  an  excessive 
pre-oeeupation  with  external  detail.  Time  and 
again  Mr.  Gibbon  forgets  all  about  his  charac- 
ters in  the  joy  of  telling  us  all  about  some  new 
place  to  which  he  has  taken  them.  His  informa- 
tion is  illimitable.  If  it  were  not  for  the  loss 
to  the  art  of  fiction,  we  should  be  strongly 
tempted  to  nominate  him  as  successor  to  that 
Herr  Baedeker  who  is  now,  we  fear,  permanent- 
ly dismissed  from  his  post  of  chief  guide-book- 
writer  to  the  English-speaking  traveller.  He 
can  give  you  the  effect  produced  by  a  great 
mountain  at  sunrise,  the  ensemble  of  a  famous 
restaurant,  the  decoration  of  Mrs.  Van  Schuy- 
ler's tea-room  at  Newport,  the  furniture  of  a 
Goettingen  boarding-house,  the  noise  of  the 
Chicago  Pit.  each  in  twenty  lines  of  crisp  stac- 
cato sentences.  At  a  conservative  calculation, 
his  hero  and  heroine  in  this  novel  travel  between 
twenty  and  thirty  thousand  miles  during  the 
action,  and  the  important  part  is  that  the  read- 
er has  to  go  with  them.  As  a  result,  he  is  too 
busy  studying  the  scenery  to  learn  much  about 
the  character  of  his  companions,  and  they  never 
have  time  to  stop  and  reveal  themselves  fully. 

For  all  that.  Madeline  Raymond,  the  Chicago 
girl  with  the  lovely  voice  and  the  picturesque 
vocabulary,  is  drawn  in  sufficient  relief  to  be 
a  highly  desirable,  if  not  absolutely  a  loveable 
character,  and  as  soon  as  she  begins  to  take 
shape,  which  is  not  until  nearly  half-way 
through  the  volume,  the  story  becomes  much 
more  gripping  than  when  it  was  concerned 
merely  with  the  university  experiences,  the  Eu- 
ropean travels  and  the  calf-love  affairs  of  the 
comparatively  shadowy  Charles  Fitzmorris. 
Owing  to  Mr.  Gibbon's  method,  we  know  all 
about  what  Charles  wears,  and  what  he  reads, 
and  how  he  decorates  his  rooms,  and  what  he 
thinks  t^or  rather  what  he  says  he  thinks — much 



January,  1(J19. 

of  the  dialogue  is  merely  a  snappy  exchange  of 
opinions  on  all  sorts  of  current  topics),  but  we 
do  not  know  much  about  what  he  is.  beyond  that 
he  is  a  very  decent  sort  of  Oxford  man  with  i 
ther  more  than  the  usual  enterprise  and  ac 
sibility  to  new  ideas,  and  that  we  are  quite  pleas- 
ed when  he  manages  to  win  such  a  charming 
prize  as  Madeline — and  wish  he  would  not  (>••- 
fordise  quite  so  solemnly  as  he  does  after 
first  "passionate  kisses." 

"I  believe  I'm  still  a  savage,"  she  whispered, 
as  she  drew  back  panting  for  breath. 

As  for  Charles,  he  said: 

"I  believe  I  would  like  you  better  as  a  savage  than 
as  a  citified  sophisticated  Chicago  girl.  It  is  this 
raw  primal  nature  that  has  bridged  the  ocean  and  the 
three  hundred  years  between  us.  My  God,  how  beau- 
tiful you   are!  " 

It  is  really  wonderful  how  Oxford  men  can 
carry  on  psychological  analysis  in  the  most  try- 
ing circumstan 

There  are  a  number  of  excellent  minor  • 
act  ts,  though  the  plot  flickers  so  rapidly  and 
constantly  that  we  seldom  get  a  chance  to  con- 
template  them  carefully.  Madeline's  father  is 
a  good  example  of  the  best  type  of  American 
business  man.  There  is  no  villain,  if  we  ex- 
cept tin-  German  Empire  and  a  Cockney  adver- 

tisement writer,  who  perpetrates  the  following 

highly  quotable  dithyramb: 

Buun's  Blue  Pills  came  to  the  modern  children 
of  Israel  like  manna  in  the  oasis.  They  are  like 
Mecca  to  the  Arab  steed  and  sweep  like  the  Assyrian 
upon  the  fold  of  intestinal  troubles.  Like  Orion  and 
the  Pleiades,  Bunn's  Blue  Pills  float  above  our  dark 
and  troublous  life,  lighting  our  way  to  the  carefree 
digestion  of  the  cassowary,  in  whose  spacious  stomach 
a  stone  becomes  as  soft  and  succulent  as  Turkish  De- 
light. The  discovery  of  the  United  States  by  Christo- 
pher Columbus  was  nothing  as  to  this  world-upheaving 
discovery  by  Professor  Bunn,  who  stands  like  Mosej 
upon  a  peak  in  Darien,  holding  his  rod  over  the  prom- 
ised land  of  impregnable  digestions. 

One  notable  service,  both  to  Canada  and  the 
world  at  large,  which  "Drums  Afar"  is  likely  to 
perform  is  the  introducing  to  a  larger  public 
of  the  exquisite  folk-songs  of  Old  French  Can- 
ada, which  Mr.  Gibbon's  hero  and  heroine  per- 
form in  Pierrot  style  at  Henley  in  the  days  be- 
fore the  war.  For  that  matter,  we  cannot  eon- 
ceive  of  anybody  reading  this  book  without  ac- 
cumulating some  few  additional  scraps  of  know- 
ledge about  the  world  and  its  peoples  from  the 
author's  astounding  storehouse.  But  is  there 
any  authority  for  clipping  the  last  syllable  of 
the  lady's  name  in  "Marianne  s'en  va-t-au 
moulin,"  as  Mr.  Gibbon  insists  on  doing?  (S. 
B.   Gundy,   Toronto,  $1.50  net.  i 

Fisheries  of  the  North  Sea 

THERE  is  a  noticeable  dearth  of  literature 
in  book  form  on  the  commercial  fisheries 
of  the  world.  "Writings  on  the  subject 
are  numerous,  hut  mostly  in  government  blue 
books,  and  small  pamphlets  are  they  found, 
and  usually  in  technical  language  not  under- 
stood by  the  layman.  "The  Fisheries  of  the 
North  Sea,"  by  Xeal  Green,  is  a  welcome  ad- 
dition to  piscatorial  bibliography.  The  writer 
shows  a  distinct  grasp  of  the  subject  and  an 
unusual  knowledge  of  the  fisheries  of  Scan- 
dinavia. France,  Germany,  Russia,  Canada  and 
the  United  States.  It  is  a  little  book,  but  its 
chapters  are  well  balanced  and  show  evidences 
of  some  clear  thinking.  Mr.  Green  gives  a 
light  and  comprehensive  sketch  of  the  history 
and  the  natural  advantages  of  the  North  Sea 
fisheries,  and,  while  dealing  particularly  with 
that  prolific  fish-producing  area,  he  introduces 
several  interesting  features  on  fish  migrations, 
methods  of  fishing,  value  of  catches  in  other 

The  principle  back  of  the  book  is  the  need 
for    greater    development    of    the    North    Sea 

fisheries  after  the  war.  He  complains  of  the 
lack  of  interest  in  the  fisheries  on  the  part  of 
the  public  and  their  apathy  to  the  importance 
and  economy  of  fish  as  a  food.  A  note  of 
warning  is  sounded  as  to  continental  competi- 
tion in  the  exploitation  of  the  North  Sea  fish- 
eries after  peace  is  declared,  and  he  advises 
British  fishermen  to  be  prepared  to  maintain 
supremacy  in  an  industry  which  means  much 
to  Britain  in  export  trade  and  in  the  manning 
of  naval   and   merchant  ships. 

All  that  Mr.  Neal  says  can  be  applied  to 
Canada  in  the  development  of  our  own  fisher- 
ies, and  we  heartily  recommend  this  book  to 
Canadians — not  only  those  directly  interested 
in  the  fishing  industry,  but  also  those  thought- 
ful citizens  who  are  now  studying  ways  and 
means  for  the  economic  development  of  our 
natural  resources  as  a  medium  for  paying  our 
debts  and  adding  to  the  wealth  of  the  Do- 
minion,    i  Methuen  &  Co..  London,  4s.  6d.  net.) 

F.  William  Wallace. 

January,  1919. 

I    i  \  I/'/  I  \    BOOR  1/  i  \ 

Some  Recent  Canadian  Verse 

By  J.  A.  DALE 

Norwood,    Robert     W.:    "The     Modernists."     McCIel 

land,  Qoodcbild  &  Stewart,  Toronto,  $1.25. 
Redpath,   Beatrice:   "Drawn  Shutters.",  To- 

ronto,    $1.25. 
Aikins,  Carroll:   "Poems."     Sherman,  French  &   Co., 

Boston,    85c. 
Middleton,    Jesse     Kiljjur:     "Sea      I'o^'s    :iml     Men      at 

Anus."      McClelland,    Goodchild    &    Stewart,   To 

ronto,    $1.50. 
Gordon,   Alfred:   "Vimy   Ridge  and   New    Poems."  J. 

M.  1  >"ut  &  Son,  Tmi onto,  $1.25. 

H  R.  NORWOOD'S  new  vclunic  "The  -Mod- 
ernists," has  an  unusually  interesting 
plan.  His  Modernists  arc  people  who  were 
"modern"  in  their  day,  who  saw  through  and 
beyond  the  current  conventions,  discerning  the 
religion  of  the  future.  Through  their  lips  he 
aims  to  show  the  vital  quality  of  religion  in  the 
historic  development  of  man,  from  the  primitive 
savage  to  the  modern  scientist.  His  method  is 
to  take  a  series  of  historic  characters  and  make 
them  reveal  their  inmost  heresies  in  dramatic 
monologue,  in  the  Browning  manner.  It  is  a 
grandiose  scheme,  and  one  to  stir  the  imagina- 
tion. Mr.  Norwood  works  it  out  with  the  fer- 
vid enthusiasm  of  his  emotional  temper,  enter- 
ing with  eager  warmth  into  the  imaginary 
thoughts  of  his  characters,  in  order  to  show 
how  they  foreshadow  or  illuminate  or  re-inter- 
pret the  figure  of  Christ.  It  is  indeed  a  won- 
derful pageant  of  history  that  is  conjured  up 
by  the  mere  list  of  his  pioneers — beginning  with 
the  nameless  Prometheus  of  the  cave-men.  and 
leading,  through  Pharaoh  Akhenaton,  Paraoh's 
daughter,  Moses,  Naaman,  the  Prophet  of  Che- 
bar,  Socrates,  Vashti,  Balthazar  (one  of  the 
Magi),  the  wife  of  Pilate,  doubting  Thomas. 
Mary,  Paul.  Porphyry,  Dante.  Joan  of  Are, 
Bruno,  and  across  a  considerable  gap  to  Dar- 

The  ambitious  scale  of  Mr.  Norwood's  ven- 
ture draws  special  attention  to  his  style,  and 
this  is  not  evenly  equal  to  his  zeal.  The  verse, 
while  easy  and  abundant,  lacks  Too  often  the 
distinction  that  comes  from  the  self-control  of 
the  artist.  Real  felicities,  though  there  are 
many  of  them,  are  more  rare  than  they  should 
be  considering  Mr.  Norwood's  fund  of  imagery 
and  sense  of  music.  If  he  tries  (like  Keats)  to 
"surprise  by  a  fine  excess."  he  lacks  as  yet  that 
craftsmanship  which  alone  can  put  excess  to 
good  artistic  use.  and  so  produce  the  surprise 
that  is  followed  by  satisfaction.  For  plastic,  as 
is  the  material  of  poetry,  it  needs  a  firm  and 
clean  handling  to  give  that  air  of  finality  which 
distinguishes  the  best  art.  Mr.  Norwood  chal- 
lenges a  high  standard.  Browning  himself 
achieved  a  rolmst  control  of  a  riotous  imagination 
and  immense  knowledge,  to  an  extent  unusual 
with  him.  in  "Cleon"  and  "Karshish" — mas- 
terly studies  which  must  inevitably  be  recalled. 
Two  more  modern  poems  of  the  same  kind  have 

recently  shown  the  .sane  wealth  of  imagery,  bul 
in    other    respects   present    an    interesting   con- 
trast:     Mr.    Lascelles    Abercrombie 'a   "Sale   of 
St.   Thomas"    (in   the   Georgian    Poetry    I 
1911  L2),  and  Mr.  Vautier  Golding's  "Miriam" 
(in  the  University  Magazine).     The   former   is 
pictorial  and  unconcerned  with   prophecy 
vivid  recreation  of  the  doubting  apostle  face  to 
face  with  his  life-work,  alone,  at  the  beginning 
of  his  journey  to  India.    The  latter  is  an  inter- 
pretation of  the  mind  of  the  mother  of  Jesus 
a    most    thoughtful    piece   of   work,   as  sober  and 
masterly  in  execution  as  it  is  glowing  and  pic- 
turesque in  imagination. 

Mr.  Norwood's  epilogue  is  a  very  inadequate 
"Voice  of  the  Twentieth  Century."  It  is  not 
altogether  Mr.  Norwood's  fault  if  without  the 
help  of  emotional  stimulus  and  a  picturesque 
dramatic  setting,  our  unhappy  century  makes 
but  a  ragged  appearance  in  the  gorgeous  proces- 
sion, and  is  a  laggard  in  spite  of  the  poet's  lash. 
When  he  can  no  longer  interpret,  without  eon- 
tradietion  the  first  stammerings  of  prophecies 
now  safely  fulfilled,  his  facile  imagery  forsakes 
him.  It  is  as  though  on  a  bleak  day  a  door  had 
blown  open  in  Mr.  Norwood's  heated  apart- 
ment, or  an  uncorked  bottle  of  soda-water  ap- 
peared from  his  cellar  of  heady  wine. 

With  Mrs.  Redpath 's  volume  "Drawn  Shut- 
ters," we  turn  to  an  art  of  carefully  recognised 
limitations,  done  well  within  the  writer's  pow- 
ers, and  done  consistently  well.  It  suggests  at 
once  the  sister  art  of  the  brush.  Her  colour 
scheme  is  admirably  set  by  the  title  poem,  and 
so  is  the  range  of  moods  it  paints :  it  is  gray 
and  shadowed,  with  cool  greens  and  silvers, 
whose  dominance  is  emphasised  by  the  intrud- 
ing splash  of  sunlit  red.  Even  in  "Full  Noon" 
the  heat  and  colour  preclude  movement  and  al- 
most stifle  life,  while  they  deepen  the  harmony 
of  the  prevailing  grays. 

Her  most  persistent  thoughts  are  of  sleep  and 
weariness  and  death,  of  inert  rebellion,  and  long- 
ing for  a  vague  escape,  and  vain  backward 
brooding  upon  tragedy — tragedy  not  recalled  in 
piercing  detail,  but  in  a  narcotic  day-dream; 
and  the  lines  move  listlessly  in  keeping  with  the 
thought.  Some  of  her  happiest  effects  are  of 
actual  day-dreams:  for  example,  "The  Dancer" 
calls  up  a  delightful  interpretation  of  motion 
and  sound  in  terms  of  picture.  Her  characters 
are  dreamers:  such  as  her  gentle  "Sailor."  who 
had  never  been  out  of  town,  but  lived  in  his 
dreams  of  the  sea,  (so  unlike  those  of  Mr.  W.  II. 
Davies'  captivating  but  prevaricating  seaman!). 
And  the  spirit  to  which  she  gives  most  poignant 
and  intimate  expression  is  that  of  the  "Dead 
Soul"  so  hopeless] v  unfledged  that  it  will  nev- 
er have  the  strength  to  rise  from  the  earth.  Mrs 
Redpath  gives  evidence,  as  in  "Earth  Love."  of 



January,  191'J. 

a  less  passive  attraction  to  the  earth  than  sheer 
inability  to  leave  it :  will  she  not  open  her  drawn 
shutters  and  interpret  her  world  in  the  light 
of  day?  But  meanwhile  she  has  made  a  real 
harmony  of  her  little  room  in  the  gallery  of  art. 

Mr.  Aikins  wins  respect  at  once  by  his  Dedi- 
cation, which  shows  a  sober  dignity  of  thought 
and  music,  not  unworthy  of  its  reminiscence  of 
some  of  Wordsworth's  best  loved  lines.  This  im- 
pression is  confirmed.  The  little  volume  is 
pleasant  reading,  varied  in  mood  and  versifi- 
cation ;  but  always  full  of  charm,  the  expression 
of  a  real  lyrical  gift.  The  range  is  not  wide 
and  the  scale  is  small;  but  the  touch  is  both 
sure  and  light.  Mr.  Aikins'  taste  is  fine  and 
delicate,  and  his  thought  rings  true. 

With  Mr.  Middleton's  volume  we  turn  sharp- 
ly to  the  events  of  war.  Many  of  these  lyrics 
sing  of  heroic  and  pitiful  tilings,  written  while 
the  news  was  fresh.  They  are  set  in  a  back- 
ground of  memories  of  the  old  "seadogs  and 
men-at-arms"  whose  spirit  lives  on  in  those  up- 
on whom  their  task  has  fallen  today.  These  un- 
pretentious verses  breathe  a  manly  patriotism, 
which  finds  expression  in  many  robust  forms. 
Mr.  Middleton  is  one  of  the  many  saddened  men 
who  see  their  ideals  violated  and  their  boys  lost 
in  their  defence,  while  they  are  themselves  re- 
jected from  the  service  and  relegated  to  less  clear 
and  simple  duties.  But  this  succession  of  cour- 
ageous lyrics  which  has  appeared  from  time  to 
time  in  the  Toronto  Daily  News  is  part  of  h;- 
"bit."  His  readers  do  not  forget  that,  even  if 
its  poetic  quality  be  slight, 

The    song   that    nerves    a   nation's   heart 
Is  in  itself  a  deed. 

The  title  of  Mr.  Alfred  Gordon's  new  volume 
sets  a  theme  of  abiding  glory,  to  which  his  tri- 
bute of  song  is  a  thoughtful  study  of  Canada 
under  her  new  experience  of  military  fame.  He 
shows  her  turning,  in  the  midst  of  exultation, 
to  the  old  Motherland  sobered,  a  long  familiar- 
ity with  successful  war  and  its  responsibilities  to 
unboastful  silence.  In  this  poem,  and  in  "Spring 
1916,"  there  is  a  simple  strength  of  thought  and 
workmanship,  that  augurs  a  greater  permanence 
than  can  be  expected  of  most  war-verse.      These 

two  have  something  of  the  quality  which  dis- 
vinguishes  Wordsworth 's  war  poetry,  and  is  rare 
so  far  in  the  poetry  of  today — the  combination 
of  deep  feeling  and  restraint,  tin  absence  of 
merely  literary  or  pictorial  adornment,  the  con- 
centration on  things  missed  by  more  facile 
writers,  and  the  remoteness  from  ephemeral 
accidentals.  The  same  quality  is  shown  in  "Not 
Made  with  Hands,"  which  is  not,  however,  a 
war  poem. 

There  is  a  strongly  contrasted  group  of  war- 
ballads  celebrating  such  stirring  incidents  as 
the  silence  of  forty  British  prisoners  before 
Byng's  attack  at  Cambrai,  or  the  return  of  a 
riddled  aeroplane  with  its  pilot  dead.  A  third 
group  consists  of  short  and  searching  studies  of 
less  obvious  soldier  types  — ' '  The  Coward, ' ' 
"The  Conscientious  Objector,"  "The  Con- 
script": the  man  who  goes  to  fight  to  escape 
suicide,  and  the  man  who  goes  because  he  is 
haunted  by  the  eyes  of  "Fallen  Comrades." 
The  lament  for  "John  McCrae"  takes  the  poppy 
theme  and  makes  a  finely  contrasted  picture 
from  Swinburne.  Of  the  other  poems,  which 
display  considerable  versatility,  one  calls  for 
special  mention — "The  Little  Son  of  the  Pro- 
phet." The  crisis  in  which  the  prophet  reveals 
his  mind  is  of  great  interest  and  strongly  han- 
dled. After  fulfilling  his  long  and  hard  pre- 
paration in  the  wilderness,  he  has  done  his  mis- 
sion of  denunciation,  and  the  fresh  fire  of  the 
Lord's  message  has  died  down.  He  has  long- 
looked  for  one  to  take  up  his  mantle  when  the 
tint-  comes,  and  his  choice  has  fallen  on  a  lad 
whom  he  loves.  But  the  boy  disappoints  his 
hopes,  and  proves  unequal  to  the  heavy  burden 
•  if  prophecy.  This  opens  the  deeper  issue  of  the 
conflict  between  the  desires  of  the  human  heart 
and  the  life  of  ascetic  dedication — with  the  final 
cleaving  doubt  of  the  validity  of  the  revelation 
of  God's  will.  The  situation  is  convincingly  per- 
sonal and  historic:  its  power  lies  in  its  being 
also  universal.  It  is  a  type  of  a  crisis  constant- 
ly recurrent  in  the  relation  of  elder  and  young- 
er. Technically  it  is  a  good  example  of  Mr. 
Gordon's  art  at  its  best — the  combination  al- 
ready noted  of  deep  feeling  and  austere  work- 

January,  1919. 

(   i  \  i/'/  i  \    tiOOKlA  i  \ 

George  lies' "Canadian  Stories" 

IN  one  of  his  essays.  Bacon  sagely  remarks, 
"The  mixture  of  a  lie  doth  ever  lend  zesl 
to  appetite."  It  may  be  in  response  to 
Rome  such  unconscious  impulse  that  so  many 
travellers  along  certain  well-defined  paths  in 
the  world  of  hooks  turn  for  "zesl  "  into  the  easj . 
wandering  by-paths  of  frictions  even  though 
it  may  be  harsh  to  apply  to  fiction  the  "short 
and  ugly."  name  id'  lie.  It  has  been  said,  more- 
over, that  every  newspaperman  in  North  Amer- 
ica is  secretly  writing  a  play.  Why  is  it  not  as 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  every  writer  who  has 
not  yet  attempted  it,  privately  cherishes  the  am- 
bition to  try  his  hand  at  that  most  elusive  me- 
dium, the  short  story? 

It  is  hard  to  imagine  the  appetite  of  George 
lies  requiring  zest.  No  man  has  preserved  his 
enthusiasms  more  fresh  and  buoyant  than  he. 
Possessed  of  that  leisure  which  in  so  many  cases 
is  fatal  to  all  sustained  effort,  he  has  never  fall- 
en victim  to  futility  or  mere  dilettantism  in 
either  his  interests  or  his  writings.  Spending 
the  major  portion  of  each  year  in  New  York  and 
the  rest  in  Montreal,  he  knows  an  incredibly 
large  number  of  the  people  best  worth  know- 
ing in  both  places.  Some  day  perhaps  he  will 
take  time  to  write  a  volume  of  reminiscences 
which  will  be  very  well  worth  reading. 

It  was  perhaps  to  his  intimate  friendship 
with  Mark  Twain  and  to  more  than  a  passing 
acquaintanceship  with  Robert  Louis  Stevenson 
that  he  owed  his  final  inspiration  to  write.  From 
his  earliest  boyhood  the  story  of  the  work  of  the 
world's  greatest  inventors  had  always  interest- 
ed him.  An  early  and  long-sustained  friend- 
ship with  Thomas  A.  Edison  gave  him  much  of 
the  personal  interest  for  the  .two  books  which 
made  his  reputation  as  a  writer  on  scientif 
studies,  "Flame,  Electricity  and  the  Camera" 
and  "Inventors  at  Work,"  both  now  out  of 
print.  These  were  followed  by  "Great  Ameri- 
can Inventors,"  with  admirable  sketches  of 
Fulton,  Whitney.  Blanchard,  Morse,  Goodyear, 
Ericsson,  Mergenthaler  and  several  others. 

What  is  a  man  with  these  leanings  doing  am- 
ong the  short  story  writers?  one  asks.  Perhaps 
this  slender  little  book  of  tales  marks  the  defi- 
nite transition  of  interest  in  a  ripe  intelligence 
from  things  to  men.    These  "Canadian  Stories" 

are  all  studies  of  men  rather  than  chronicles  of 
events,  examples  of  the  queer  evolutions  of  that 
queerest  of  all  created  things,  the  human  mind. 
They  will  have  unusual  interest   U,v  the  Mont 
realers  who  remember  their  city  as  it  was  from 

forty  years  to  half  a  century  ago,  for  their 
background  is  in  nearly  every  case  the  Montreal 
of  that  period.     How  many  of  the  characters 

which  pass  across  the  pages  under  fi.-titions 
names  may  he  recognized  by  those  who  remem- 
ber those  days  it  would  be  hard  ami  perhaps  a 
bit  dangerous  to  say. 

Mr.  lies  is  not  one  to  dally  with  the  well-es- 
tablished and  easily  recognized  artifices  of  the 
professional  teller  of  tales.  Part  of  the  charm  of 
these  little  stories  is  what  lies  hidden  betwen 
the  lines.  Here  and  there  there  is  a  hit  of  the 
real  Montreal  of  other  days,  as  in  "Who  Killed 
John  Burbank?"  here  and  there  a  whimsical 
tribute  to  the  changeability  of  human  nature  as 
in  "Slight  Repairs."  "As  Others  See  Us"  is 
perhaps  the  most  original  and  best  told  of  the 

Following  these  there  is  a  reprinted  lecture  de- 
livered last  year  at  Hackley  School  on  "Choos- 
ing Books,'*  slightly  autobiographical  and  very 
practical,  a  real  guide  for  one  taking  the  short- 
cut of  the  five  foot  shelf.  There  is  an  excellent 
but  too  short  list  of  "books  to  be  read"  with  it. 

Then,  by  way  of  good  measure,  as  it  were, 
there  are  a  few  pages  of  epigrams,  some  of 
which  may  be  given  as  samples : 

Hope  is  faith  stretching  out  rts  hands  in  the  dark. 

An  art  is  a  handicraft  in  flower. 

A  superstition  is  a  premature  explanation  that  has 
outstayed  its  time. 

If  there  were  no  cowards  there  would  be  no  bullies. 

Eighteous   indignation   may   be   spleen   in   disguise. 

Men  will  never  disap>point  us  if  we  observe  two 
rules,  (1)  to  find  out  what  they  are,  and  (2)  to  ex- 
pect them  to  be  just  that. 

A  man  may  be  called  generous  who  suffers  from 
mere  pecuniary  incontinence. 

Many  an  old  library  is  not  a  quarry  but  a  grave- 
yard.     Its   inscriptions   tell    us   only    of   the   dead. 

My  son,  honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother  by  im- 
proving upon  their  example. 

Altogether  Mr.  lies"  first  venture  into  the 
field  of  fiction  has  been  a  happy  one.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  it  will  not  be  his  last.  I  The  Witness 
Press.  Montreal.  $1.) 


January,  1919. 

The  Distinction  of  Hergeshemier 

DISTINCTION,"  in  novels,  as  in  whiskies, 
is  the  result  of  a  subtle  blending  of 
many  qualities,  some  of  them  too  deli- 
cate and  elusive  for  classification.  It  has  not 
hitherto  been  a  characteristic  mark  of  any  class 
of  American  fiction.  Strength,  audacity,  indus- 
try, observation,  sentiment,  sympathy,  invention, 
mechanical  skill — all  of  these  in  turns,  and 
sometimes  all  of  them  at  once,  have  been  ex- 
hibited by  the  American  novel  often  enough ; 
but  they- have  left  it  measurably  below  the 
level  of  the  corresponding  English  product,  in 
the  opinion  of  those  who  judge  literary 
values  with  a  discriminating  palate,  by  reason 
chiefly  of  the  lack  of  this  one  quality  or  blend 
of  qualities  called  distinction.  Not  one  of  them 
hitherto  has  imparted  the  feeling  that  it  was 
the  product  of  a  mind  at  once  delicate  and 
dexterous,  both  in  the  matter  of  its  thought 
and  in  the  manner  of  its  expression.  Just  as 
certain  men  and  certa'n  women  produce,  at  an 
instant's  glance  or  in  a  few  words  of  conversa- 
tion, the  effect  of  "race,"  of  "family,"  of  a 
distinction  which  goes  further  back  than  any- 
thing that  the  individual  himself  can  have 
achieved  by  h's  own  actions  or  experiences,  so 
there  are  certain  writers  who  give  one  the  same 
satisfying  feeling  after  fifty  pages  of  their 
writing  (and  never  cancel  it  by  a  lapse  into 
commonness)  ;  and  s>uch  writers  have  heen 
rare  in  American  imaginative  literature  since 
it  cut  itself  loose  from  its  English  ancestry. 
Joseph  Hergesheimer,  who  now  has  three  im- 
portant books  to  his  credit,  is  one  of  them.  He 
is  a  very  recent  addition  to  American  litera- 
ture, and  one  for  which  Americans  should  be 
thankful.  American  critics  have  compared  him 
with  several  English  writers  of  "distinction," 
but  only  with  one  American — Hawthorne. 

"The  Three  Black  Pennys"  (Penny  is  a  pro- 
per name,  and  the  compositor  and  proof- 
reader will  therefore  please  refrain  from  cor- 
recting this  plural  into  Pennies  or  Pence),  the 
latest  Hergesheimer  novel,  is  thoroughly  and 
intensely  American,  unless  we  are  to  take  the 
rash  and  unjustified  course  of  declaring  that 
distinction    is    an    un-American    quality.         It 

deals  with  American  life  over  a  period  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years,  with  the  development 
of  an  American  family,  with  American  social 
conditions;  and  it  does  so  with  an  insider's 
knowledge  and  sympathy.  It  cannot  be  wholly 
a  coincidence  that  both  in  its  form — that  of 
three  mating  episodes  in  successive  genera- 
t  ons  of  the  same  family, — and  in  its  milieu — 
that  of  a  family  of  great  ironworkers, — it 
agrees  absolutely  with  the  famous  English 
play  "Milestones";  but  it  certainly  owes  no- 
thing to  that  play  except  a  suggestion.  It  is 
not  the  operations  of  the  parental  and  family 
influences  which  interest  Mr.  Hergesheimer, 
as  they  did  Messrs.  Bennett  and  Knoblauch; 
his  characters  are  too  powerful  to  be  much 
governed  by  such  influences,  and  the  three 
stories  are  clean-cut  depictions  of  strong  in- 
dividuality, chiefly  shown  in  the  workings  of 
the  sex  instinct — told  by  a  man  who  writes 
about  sex  with  the  absolute  detachment  of  the 
artist  and  not  with  the  pornographic  over- 
emphasis of  our  leading  magazine  contribu- 
tors, nor  the  slightly  shamefaced  glance-and- 
run  methods  of  the  more  honest  American 

The  reader  who  has  access  to  a  bookstore 
need  not  take  our  word  for  the  qualities  of  the 
Hergesheimer  work.  They  stand  out  as  not- 
ably in  the  style,  the  writing,  as  in  the  con- 
ception. Let  him  pick  up  a  copy  of  "The 
Three  Black  Pennys"  and  peruse  the  opening 
page,  beginn'ng:  "A  twilight  like  blue  dust 
sifted  into  the  shallow  fold  of  the  thickly 
wooded  hills."  If  that  page  does  not  give  him 
acute  satisfaction,  he  need  not  bother  any  fur- 
ther; the  book  is  not  for  him.  A  reader  who 
is  not  accessible  to  distinction  in  language  will 
not  be  truly  devout  before  distinction  in 
character-drawing  and  philosophy.  .  .  . 
The  wrapper  informs  us  that  Mr.  Hergesheimer 
is  Pennsylvania  Dutch  of  many  generations 
standing,  and  that  he  is  thirty-seven  years 
old,  and  that  there  are  not  "interesting 
details"  in  his  life — which  is  quite  the  most 
interesting  thing  that  it  could  tell  us.  (S.  B. 
Gundy,  Toronto,  $1.50  net.) 

Fist  Fights  In  Far  B.C. 

THAT  large  school  of  fiction-readers  who 
are  thrilled  by  the  vivid  description  of  a 
good  fist  fight  will  find  plenty  of  this 
form  of  entertainment  in  "My  Brave  and  Gal- 
lant Gentleman,"  by  Robert  "Watson,  who  has 
studied  Jeffrey  Farnol  to  some  purpose.  It  is 
the  story  of  an  Englishman's  experiences  while 
keeping  a  country  store  in  a  remote  lumber- 
ing district  in  British  Columbia,  and  some  of 
the  incidents  are  good  literary  material.  Such, 
for  instance,  is  the  story  of  the  dour  old  Scots- 
man, Andrew  Clark,  who  has  said  no  word  to 
his  wife  for  ten  years  on  account  of  a  vow  that 
he  would  never  speak  to  her  again  if  she  did 
something  in  disobedience  to  his  orders,  and 

who  is  eventually  brought  to  reason  by  be- 
ing penned  up  in  the  chicken-house  for  many 
days  without  feed ;  his  breakdown,  when  he 
calls  for  his  wife  and  confesses  that  the  ten 
years  have  been  years  of  torture  for  himself, 
is  very  beautiful  human  material,  simply  told. 
The  handling  of  the  main  story  is  amateurish, 
and  it  seems  unnecessary  that  the  hard-fight- 
ing hero  should  have  to  become  eventually  the 
Earl  of  Brammerton  and  his  lady-love  of  the 
backwoods  turn  out  to  be  Lady  Rosemary 
Granton.  Mr.  Watson  is  to  be  congratulated 
on  his  title,  which  is  eminently  calculated  to 
make  Mr.  Farnol  jealous.  (McClelland,  Good- 
child  &  Stewart,  Ltd.,  Toronto,  $1.50  net.) 

January,  1919. 

C  l  \  l/»/.I.V    i:ooi(\l  I  \ 

Willow,  the  Wisp,  and  the  Way 
of  the  Wilds 

A  RCI11K   1'.   McKishnie   (one  pauses  to   re 
fleet    how   totally   differenl    ;i    brand   of 
Literature  be  would  undoubtedly  bave  produced 

had  lie  elected  to  sign  himself  with  the  indoors 
appellation  of  Archibald  I  is  by  virtue  of  inherit- 
ance anil  long  practice  the  foremosl  of  our  lum- 
ber limit  litterateurs,  the  most  accomplished  of 
our  furnishers  of  fishing-camp   fiction.     There 
is,    apparently,    an     inexhaustible     demand     for 
novels   about   the   "smell    o'    the    woods   an'    the 
call    o'    the    birds,"    and    the     "clear-fringed 
shores'*  of  the  "placid  lake"  with  their  "rush 
lined   shallows,"   and    big,    muscular,    open-air 
men  to  whom  the  stars  "sing  out  in  the  hushed 
night    with    a    melody    atune 
with  the  eternal  chord  upon 
which  hung  all  the  harmony" 
of    their    respective    worlds. 
There    is   a    whole   Dominion 
full    (for  the  most   part)    of 
city-dwellers,   convinced   that 
human  nature  only  finds  its 
real,    all-round    development 
in    the   vast   primeval    loneli- 
ness of  the  forest  —  but  not 
by   any   means    prepared    to 
seek    their    own    development 
there   and   abandon    the    de- 
lights of  the  movie-show  and 
the  departmental   store ;  and 
these  have  an  unconquerable 
yearning  to  read  about  "the 
big,  simple  law  of  the  forest, 
which     reads,    "  'Everythin ' 
pays  sooner  or    later,'  "  and 
which  they  therefore  conceive 
to  be   something   totally   dif- 
ferent from  any  law  current 
in    Toronto,    Montreal,    New 
York  or  Petrograd.     Mr.  Mc- 
Kishnie  feeds   their  yearning   with   much    skill 
and  with  a  real  knowledge  of  the  woods  and 
solitudes  over  which  he  thus  sentimentalises   (a 
knowledge  which  must  at  times  make  him  blush 
to  sentimentalise  so),  and  a  growing  knack  of 
contriving    a    workable    plot.        "Willow,    the 
Wisp"  (the  title  raises  the  old  question  whether 
an  author  has  a  right  to  name  or  nickname  his 
characters  with  a  sole  view  to  inflicting  a  pun 
upon  his  readers  i    is  at  least   Mr.   McKishnie's 

Archie  P.  McKishnie 

third   novel,  and   in  all   respects  excepl   thai  of 

originality  of  literary  style  it   is  a  decided  ad- 
vance  on    its   predecessors.     The   vagueness   of 
characterization  which  made  it  difficult  to  I 
up  an  tnteresl   in  the  personages  of  the  former 
books  is  still   present,  but  in  the    case    of    the 
i  ponj  iiKiiis   beroine   of   the   new   one   the   mis' 
of  the   northern    lakes  occasionally    pari    suffi 
ciently  to  enable  ber  to  take  some  sorl  of  form 
and  beauty,  albeit  a  form  highly  reminiscenl  of 

various  "Girls"  of  various  geograph 
sub-divisions  of  the  United  States  who  have  giv- 
en their  names  to  many  recent  American  novels 
and  their  wind-blown  hair  and  abbreviated 
skirts  to  the  illustral 
of  the  same.  About  his 
new  hero,  also.  .Mr.  Mc 
Kislmie  has  hung  an  ingeni- 
ous aura  of  romance  by  mak- 
ing him  a  sort  of  natural- 
born  animal  tamer,  who  plays 
with  bears  and  foxes  as  other 
men  with  cats  abd  does,  and 
who  is  savi  d  from  an  impend- 
ing relapse  into  his  old-time 
drug  habit  by  the  affection- 
ate solicitousness  of  a  huge 
and  ferocious  female  lynx. 
A  regular  modern  Daniel! 
When  a  man  like  this  j 
into  a  complicated  love  af- 
fair and  a  feud  with  lav, 
neighbours  at  the  same  time, 
one  naturally  wants  to  know 
how  he  is  going  to  come  out 
of  it,  and  so  one  reads  to  the 
cud  of  a  novel  which  seems 
at  times  a  trifle  over-burden- 
ed with  descriptions  of  sun- 
sets and  purple  mountains 
and     tamaracks     and     forest  -  ringed     lakes 

The  end  is  all  that  the  most  sentimental  read 
er  could  wish  for ;  the  good  are  happy  and  mat- 
ed, the  bad  are  punished  and  hated.  But  then 
have  we  not  that  good  old  "law  of  the  forest'' 
to  ensure  just  that  retributive  justice  which. 
in  our  less  primitive  cities,  and  other  places 
where  the  forest  has  been  chopped  down,  so 
often  misses  its  mark '.'  <  Thomas  Allen.  To- 
ronto. $1.35.) 

CANADIAN    BOOKMAN  January,  1919. 

Twentieth  Century  Librarianship 

By  Mary  J.  L.  BLACK 

j  T  is  a  long  step  from  the  scholarly  musty  old 
gentleman  one  has  so  often  seen  pictured 
as  guarding-  the  library,  wrapped  up  in 
his  books,  without  an  eye  or  thought  to  the  out- 
side world,  to  the  alert  business-like  personage 
one  now  sees  moving  quickly  around  the  streets, 
meeting  the  world  in  their  offices  and  factories, 
coming  in  constant  contact  witli  commercial 
life,  and  who  introduces  himself  as  the  city 
librarian.  This  new  type  may  be  scholarly  and 
have  a  wide  book  knowledge,  but  to  him  boo'- 
are  only  a  means  to  an  end,  and  so  he  realizes 
that  this  constant  contact  with  the  work-a-day 
world  is  necessary  in  order  that  he  can  learn 
their  book  needs,  and  put  the  enormous  mass  of 
printed  material  at  their  disposal.  To  him, 
there  is  little  virtue  in  having  a  book  on  the  shelf 
unless  there  is  also  a  reader  at  hand  to  enjoy 
and  use  it,  and  so  to  him,  there  is  more  joy  and 
glee  in  finding  a  reader  than  even  in  getting 
possession  of  a  fine  and  rare  edition.  If  this 
modern  were  asked  to  enumerate  the  qualifica- 
tions necessary  for  successful  librarianship,  he 
would  surely  put  the  spirit  of  service  and  know- 
ledge of  people  even  before  a  knowledge  of  books 
and  all  three  would  precede  an  acquaintance 
with  library  technique  and  business  training. 
The  interested  public,  however,  soon  recognize 
that  the  last  mentioned  qualification  exists  also, 
and  that  their  librarian  is  not  a  sentimental 
and  altruistic  missionary  indulging  in  works  of 
supererogation,  but  rather  a  sane  and  practical 
member  of  society  who  desires  to  create  a  need 
for  his  service  in  the  public  life,  that  will  carry 
his  calling  far  beyond  the  class  of  the  sinecure. 
With  this  object  in  view,  the  modern  public 
library  has  developed  with  all  its  reference  fa- 
cilities of  books  and  periodicals,  newspaper 
clippings,  and  trade  bibliographies  to  which 
everyone  has  the  easiest  possible  access.  That 
the  public  library  is  an  institution  instituted  for 
the  purpose  of  catering  only  to  a  special  class 
or  group  of  classes  is  a  fallacy  from  which  it 
is  very  hard  to  get  away,  the  whole  history  of 
the  movement  conducing  to  that  misconception. 
Our  musty  old  friend  begrudged  allowing  even 
students  to  use  his  books,  but  his  prejudices 
were  at  last  overcome.  Following  his  regime 
came  the  library  of  our  childhood  which  was  an 
institution  for  mechanics  as  well  as  students. 
Since  then  the  children  have  come  to  their  own. 
but  often  at  the  expense  of  these  former  groups, 
and  following  the  recognition  of  the  children's 
reeds  has  come  an  appreciation  of  the  claims  of 
young  people.  It  is  only,  however,  since  our 
business-like  librarian  has  taken  charge,  that 
the  thought  has  come  to  us,  that  the  public 
library  is  not  specifically  a  students'  library, 
or  a  mechanics,  or  even  a  children's,  but  a  citi- 
zens' library,  and  that  unless  it  reaches  direct- 
ly as  well  as  indirectly  every  class  of  citizen  in 

the  community,  it  is  not  fulfilling  its  normal 

This  idea  presents  a  problem  much  greater 
than  anything  with  which  our  librarian  has 
ever  been  confronted  before,  and  it  is  one 
that  can  only  be  solved  approximately  during 
the  present  generation.  In  the  days  to  come, 
when  the  children  growing  up  will  have  all  been 
taught  in  the  schools  how  to  read,  and  in  the 
public  libraries  what  to  read,  the  problem  of 
the  librarian  in  his  relationship  to  the  adult 
members  of  the  community  will  be  greatly  sim- 
plified. By  then,  everyone  will  have  been  train- 
ed to  recognize  in  the  public  library,  the  natural 
laboratory,  where  all  workers  in  the  community 
will  turn  for  inspiration  and  new  ideas,  or  for 
means  for  developing  those  ideas  which  already 
have  come  to  them  through  their  practical  ex- 
perience. Then,  that  antagonism,  which  though 
often  unnoticed,  is  nevertheless  most  general 
between  the  practical  man  of  experience,  and 
the  baok  taught  man.  will  have  disappeared,  for 
by  then,  we  will  have  all  learned  that  book 
information  is  of  no  value  if  not  put  into  use, 
and  that  personal  endeavor  is  but  slightly  to 
one's  credit,  unless  the  worker  knows  from 
books  as  well  as  from  personal  experience  that 

Librarian,    Fort    William,    Ont. 

January,  1919. 



he  is  getting  the  besl  results  in  the  easiest 
and  quickest  way.    Thru,  the  Librarian  will  be 

able  to  stand,  equipped  with  his  I ks  and  his 

knowledge  of  them,  and  wait  Eor  the  public  to 

'■'i when  occasion  requires,  but   much  thai 

makes  twentieth  century  librarianship  interest- 
ing will  have  passed  away.  How  tame  his  life 
will  he,  when  the  man  about  town  turns  to  the 
public  library  for  bis  literary  needs  as  natur- 
ally as  to  his  club  for  bis  social  requirements, 
and  when  even  the  trained  student  realizes 
thai  there  is  a  world  of  bibliographies  of  bib- 
liography with  which  he  could  not  personally 
hope  to  be  acquainted,  but  which  is  available 
at  the  public  library.  Probably  other  fields 
of.activity  will  open  themselves  to  him,  but  in 
the  meantime  we  congratulate  ourselves  that 
ourduty  lies  in  these  days  of  development  when 
the  fight  is  still  keen,  and  when  the  citizen  at 
large  is  turning  with  a  wondering  eye  to  the 
hitherto  unappreciated  treasure  trove  of 
printed  matter  in  the  city's   public  library. 

A  Working  Library  of  Pulp 
and  Paper  Literature 

SOME  time  ago  the  committee  on  Techni- 
cal Education  of  the  Technical  Section 
of  the  Canadian  Pulp  and  Paper  Asso- 
ciation were  asked  to  suggest  a  list  of  books 
and  periodicals  that  would  serve  as  the  foun- 
dation for  a  working  library  in  a  pulp  or  paper 
mill  reading  room  or  the  town  library  of  a 
mill  town.  It  was  decided  that  such  a  list 
should  include  some  general  subjects  besides 
strictly  pulp  and  paper  material  because  of 
the  diversity  of  work  necessary  in  such  a 
mill.  Consequently,  the  following  list  is  sug- 
gested. It  can  be  extended  if  desired,  especial- 
ly along  scientific  lines. 

Pulp  and  Paper. 

Chapters  on  Papermaking,  Beadle. 

The   Manufacture   of  Paper,   Sindall. 

Technology  of  Papermaking,  Sindall. 

Wood  Pulp   and  Its  Uses,   Cross,   Bevan  & 

Practical  Papermaking,  Clapperton. 

Text    Book    on    Papermaking,     Cross    and 

Dyeing  of  Paper  Pulp.  Erfurt. 

Papermaker's   Poeketbook,   Beveridge. 

Paper  Mill  Chemist,  Stevens. 

Chemistry    of   Papermaking,   Griffin-  &   Lit- 
tle.     (Out   of  print.) 

Treatment   of  Paper   for   Special   Purposes, 


General    Chemistry,    as    McPherson    &   Hen- 

General  Physics,  as  Carhart  &  Chute. 

American    Machinists    Handbook,    Colvin    & 

Steam  Power  Plant  Engineering,  Gebhardt. 

American    Electrician's    Handbook,    Terrell 

Engineer's    Handbook,    as    Kent    or    Iraut- 


Paper,   New   York. 

Pulp  and  Paper  Magazii I  Canada.  Mont- 
Power,  New  York. 
Engu ring    News  Etacqrd,    New    Yoi 

Canadian    Chemical    Journal,    Toronto. 
Canadian    Forestry    Journal,    Ottawa. 
Industrial     Management,    New    York. 

Library  Notes 

THE  Board  of  Management  of  the  Windsor 
Public   Library   have   in   their  selection   of 

a  librarian  to  succeed  the  late  Miss  Pran- 
ces E.  McCrae  shown  a  wisdom  not  always  dis 
played  by  public  bodies.  When  a  librarian  was 
to  be  appointed,  instead  of  regarding  the  office 
as  a  plum  for  some  retired  school-teacher  or 
other  untrained  and  inexperienced  local  aspir- 
ant, the  Board  set  out  in  search  of  a  person  who 
possessed  the  necessary  qualifications.  The  de- 
velopment of  library  work  in  the  province  for- 
tunately  gives  now  a  fairly  wide  field  of  choice. 
The  appointment  finally  came  to  Miss  Agnes  I. 
Lancefield.  of  the  Toronto  Public  Library  staff, 
who  for  several  years  has  bad  charge  of  the  Riv- 
erdale  Library. One  of  the  strongest  branches 
in  the  Toronto  system.  Miss  Lancefield  is  a 
daughter  of  the  late  Richard  T.  Lancefield.  who 
for  some  years  was  Chief  Librarian  of  the  Ham- 
ilton Public  Library.  She  will  bring  to  the  re- 
sponsible position  to  which  she  has  been  ap- 
pointed, not  only  an  enviable  record  of  achieve- 
ment, but  a  capability,  an  enthusiasm  and  strong 
personal  qualities  which  promise  high  success 
in  her  work.  The  day  has  passed  when  a  per- 
son who  "just  loves  reading"  and  is  "awfully 
fond  of  books"  can  hope  to  pass  on  these  quali- 
fications. As  a  component  nart  of  our  educa- 
tional system  the  Public  Library  demands  the 
service  of  highly-trained  intellects,  united  with 
attractive  personal  finalities  and  inspired  with 
a  strong  public  spirit  to  make  it  a  force  in  the 
upbuilding  processes  of  the   community. 

IN  the  trinity  of  cities  of  Ontario  (Toronto, 
Ottawa  and  Hamilton)  where  the  growth 
of  population  has  brought  them  under  the 
clause  of  the  Public  Libraries  Act  which  pro- 
vides for  the  appropriation  of  only  one-fourth 
of  a  mill  on  the  dollar  of  assessment,  the  ques- 
tion of  salary  increases  has  become  at  once  a 
live  issue  and  an  embarrassing  problem.  The 
extraordinary  increase  in  the  cost  of  living — 
nearly  double  what  it  was  at  the  beginning  of 
the  war — has  made  the  present  schedule  of 
salaries  altogether  inadequate,  and  the  income 
unfortunately  has  not  grown  in  anything  like 
proportion  to  the  development  of  the  work,  so 
that  Boards  which  gladly  would  advance  the 
salaries  find  themselves  without  the  funds  to  do 
so.  The  remedy  lies  obviously  in  the  raising  of 
the  library  rate  for  such  cities,  and  this  is  be- 
ing pressed  urgently  upon  the  authorities  in 
Queen's  Park.  That  something  will  be  done  to 
give  relief  at  the  approaching  meeting  of  the 
Legislature  may  be  taken  for  granted. 



January,  1919. 

THE  Library  Training  School  for  the  Pro- 
vince of  Ontario,  conducted  under  the 
supervision  of  Mr.  W.  0.  Carson,  Inspec- 
tor of  Public  Libraries,  is  now  in  progress  in 
the  Art  Eoom  of  the  Toronto  Reference  Lib- 
rary. Twenty -five  students  registered  this  year, 
coming  from  various  parts  of  the  Province,  and 
one  from  as  remote  an  'outside  point  as  Halifax. 
I  nsf  ruction  in  the  several  branches  of  library 
work  is  being  given  by  heads  of  departments  of 
the  Toronto  and  London  Libraries.  A  series  of 
lectures  by  specialists,  dealing  with  various 
lines  of  intellectual  activity,  has  been  a  useful 
feature  of  the  course.  The  school  is  intended 
only  for  those  who  already  have  entered  library 
work,  enabling  them  to  acquire  a  wider  grasp  of 
the  work  than  they  would  be  likely  to  gain  in 
the  course  of  their  regular  duties.  Incidentally 
a  result  is  a  supply  of  trained  librarians,  from 
whom  to  choose  when  important  positions  are  to 
be  filled.  The  entire  expense,  including  the 
railway  fares  of  the  students,  is  borne  by  the 

THE  Western  University,  London,  has  had 
the  good  fortune  to  become  the  perman- 
ent repository  of  the  remarkable  col- 
lection of  books  gathered  during  his 
life  time  by  Mr.  J.  Davis  Barnett,  of 
Stratford.  This  well-known  library  con- 
tains one  of  the  most  notable  collections  of 
Shakespearean  works  in  existence,  and  also  one 
of  the  largest  and  best  collections  of  Canadiana. 
Under  the  terms  of  the  bequest,  Mr.  Barnett  will 
have  charge  of  the  library,  a  guarantee  of  its 
service  to  the  public  being  all  that  could  be 
wished.  The  collection  embraces  more  than  40,- 
000  volumes. 

The  Library  and  the  Soldier 

THE  free  library  is  distinctly  a  new  world 
institution.        No     country    of   the    Old 
world  has  opened  up  branches  and  demo- 
cratized the  iise  of  books  and  reading  rooms 
for  circulation  and  research  purposes  as  have 
the  United  States  and  Canada. 

At  the  moment  the  American  Library  As- 
sociation is  included  in  the  important  socie- 
ties clubbing  together  for  a  great  war  chest 
campaign  for  funds.  The  other  societies  are 
the  Y.M.C.A..  the  Y.W.C.A.,  the  Knights  of 
Columbus,  the  Jewish  Welfare  and  the  Salva- 
tion Army 

When  the  United  States  entered  the  war,  its 
government  granted  the  A. LA.  one  million  dol- 
lars. Their  slogan  was  one  million  dollars  for 
one  million  books  for  one  million  soldiers.  And 
with  that  first  money  they  built  camp  build- 
ings to  house  their  books,  and  a  place  where 
the  new  magazines  could  be  found,  and  where 
questions  could  be  answered  all  da3'  long.  Then 
as  the  boys  went  overseas,  the  books  went 
along  also.  One  hundred  and  thirty-nine  hos- 
pitals have  been  supplied  from  that  fund,  and 

130  naval  stations  have  books  as  well  as  232 
ships.  This  time  they  ask  for  $3,500,000  as 
their  share  of  the  fifteen  millions  to  be  raised. 
Their  plans  for  the  future  are  of  even  larger 

Now  in  a  quiet  way  Ontario  has  not  done 
badly  in  this  matter  of  good  books  for  our 
men.  The  Board  of  Education  has  been  al- 
lowed to  spend  handsome  sums  buying  books 
for  the  army  camps.  The  Inspector  of  Librar- 
ies has  been  allowed  to  purchase  generously 
of  books  for  the  Y.M.C.A.  camps. 

In  the  Province  of  Quebec  the  McGill 
Alumnae  association  has  catalogued  a  library 
of  5,000  volumes,  and  placed  it  in  the  Drum- 
mond  Street  home  for  soldiers  in  Montreal. 
They  have  also  libraries  in  the  two  large  hos- 
pitals. But  the  Westmount  Library  has  given 
a  more  personal  attention  to  the  boys  who 
have  gone  from  that  municipality.  The  staff 
of  that  library  have,  without  any  outside  help, 
sent  steadily  parcel  after  parcel  of  good  novels 
to  the  boys  in  France,  and  in  every  case  they 
have  had  the  most  grateful  letters  in  reply. 
The  librarian  has  always  been  careful  to  choose 
books  she  knew  each  particular  boy  liked.  For 
instance,  she  recalled  that  one  boy  would  read 
naught  but  western  tales.  Zane  Grey,  Cullum 
and  Curwood.  Another  had  a  leaning  toward 
Oppenheim  and  Mystery.  A  third  insisted  on 
historical  romance,  where  the  hero  wears  a 
cape  and  a  slouch  hat,  and  says,  "I  prithee 
Sirrah,"  whatever  that  means. 

Perhaps  the  best  missionary  work  in  Mont- 
real has  been  done  by  the  librarian  of  the 
Y.M.C.A.  Library  on  Drummond  Street,  where, 
with  small  means  and  a  very  small  salary  she 
has  given  much  personal  interest  to  the  sol- 
diers who  from  time  to  time  come  to  her  desk. 

Let's  Pretend 

I    name    my   brothers   in   a   prayer, 

Who  are  upon  the  sea, 
Lynn,  with  brown  and  tumbled  hair, 

Lloyd   and  Deak,  the  three. 
O  the  days  we  whittled  boats 

And  sailed  them  on  the  sea. 

The  sea  was  running  past  our  door, 

A  mountain  brook  and  clear. 
And    little   bays  we   scooped   and   shaped 

To  keep  our  fleets  from  fear. 
Each  bay  we  manned ;  each  ship  we  named, 

And  launched  it  with  a  cheer. 

O  little  whittled  boat  that  went 

So  slowly  round   the  bend, 
O  happy  days  of  make-believe 

When   will    this    anguish    end? 
Tears  in  my  eyes?     I   am  not  now 
So  good  to  "Let's  Pretend." 

Mary  Carolyn  Davies,  "The  Drums  in  Our 

January,  1919. 

'    l  \  l/'/.l.\    BOOK  1/  l  \ 


Weeding  Out  the  War  Books 

IN  the  mind  of  the  reviewer  upon  whose  desk 
books  upon  the  war  have,  during  the  lasl 
four  years,  been  piled  almost   literally  by 

the  ton,  the  appearan »f  another  of  the  same 

category  evokes  as  a  rule  but  a  passing  interest. 
As  a  matter  of  i'aet  out  of  every  hundred  "war 
hooks"    which    have   appeared,   about    ninety-six 

merit  nothing  more  than  a  speedy  oblivion,  to 

which  they  are  doomed.  The  war  has  been  so 
enormous,  mi  complex  and  so  tremendous  in  its 
reaction  upon  every  human  ■•motion  that  very 
few  writers  who  have  had  real  experience  upon 
the  firing  step  or  with  the  guns  have  }i,-r}\  able 
to  catch  and  fix  more  than  an  isolated  and 
sometimes  quite  unimportant  phase  of  it.  Par, 
far  too  many  war  hooks  have  been  merely  con- 
scientious hits  of  second-class  newspaper  re- 
porting or.  worse  even  than  this,  so  obviously  a 
striving  after  a  literary  style,  so  heavily  patch- 
ed with  purple  as  to  he  of  little  permanent 

"The  Real  Front"  (Arthur  Hunt  Chute), 
falls  happily  between  these  two  extremes. 
Captain  Chute  saw  the  Balkan  campaigns  as 
a  war  correspondent  and  had,  in  consequence, 
both  a  journalistic  training  in  observation  and 
a  sort  of  basis  of  comparison,  however,  inade- 
quate, to  begin  with.  In  addition  to  these  ad- 
vantages he  has  a  very  distinct  literary  style. 

The  result  is  a  book  which  is  quite  notably 
above  the  ordinary,  a  sufficiently  well  connected 
account  of  the  formation  of  the  first  Canadian 
contingent,  from  Valcartier  through  Salisbury 
Plain — "the  bitterest  fight  we  ever  fought." 
as  Captain  Chute  describes  that  unfortunate 
period  of  training — right  to  the  firing  step  be- 
fore the  first  battle  of  Ypres.  together  with  a 
series  of  independent  sketches  and  impressions. 

"War  in  the  first  line  trenches  today  is  less 
glorious  than  a  slaughter  house  in  Chicago," 
says  ( 'aptain  Chute.  So  far  as  material  glories 
are  concerned  he  is  no  doubt  right — there  is 
little  of  the  bugle-blowing,  sabre-waving 
"glory"  about  it  such  as  we  have,  probably 
quite  erroneously,  been  accustomed  to  associate 
with  the  warfare  of  another  day.  But  was  war. 
even  then,  so  glorious?  If  we  were  asked  to 
pick  out  an  incident  of  war  as  typically  glori- 
ous many  of  us  would  no  doubt  select  the  charge 
of  the  Light  Brigade  at  Balaclava.  And  yet 
Captain  Chute  reports  a  conversation  with  one 
of  the  surv;vors  of  the  great  feat  and  the  aged 
man  carried  "out  of  the  valley  of  death"  im- 
pressions of  something  the  very  reverse  of  glor- 
ious. As  a  matter  of  fact  warfare  probably  nev- 
er has  been  glorious  to  the  men  engaged  in  it. 
But  in  the  more  genuine  glory,  in  the  glory  of 
eourage  in  the  face  of  death  at  its  most  hideous. 
of  endurance  under  such  tests  as  man  has  never 
known  before,  of  unselfishness  when  every  in- 
stinct Urged  the  reverse,  of  idealism,  of  gentle- 
ness, of  chivalry  to  a  foe  lost  apparently  to  ev- 
ery impulse  of  humanity,  of  utter  consecration 

"•''>    faculty  to  th  •  common  task     in  8Uch 
TJ   <  laptain  Chute  has,  thank  God,  not  found 
this  war  to  he  lacking. 

I  quote  just  one  of  manj  quotable  sketche 
modern  warfare.    It  concerns  a  brigade  head- 
quarters during  heavy  action  : 

1       au  the  thick   walla  muffled  every 

"  •    -'"■  far  awaj 

'.■   "i'  fli-  Btricken  men  could  nut  be  heard. 

W1:r"    ""■  jan    1    was    afraid     that     the 

chateau  would  Boon  he  about  cur  head  calm 

"•'  tD  lier  gave  me  faith   in  the   invulnerability 

of  the  walls.  The  great,  dark,  panelled  room  was 
wrapped   in  gli  brigadier  -.-it    in  a  cha 

'he  window,  the  adjutant  sat  at  a   'phone,  a. 

As  I  gazed  at  the  face  of  the  brigadier  that  tor- 
nado  of  battle  without  seemed  in  another  world.  His 
long,  lean  frame  was  sunken  deep  in  his  chair.  In 
ttie    twilight    all    his    minor    t.  |,ut    a 

bold,  high  forehead.  a  pallid  countenance  and  eves  as 
black  as  the  night  itself,  were  clearly  discerned."  The 
red  and  gold  of  his  insignia  gave  the  one  relieving 
touch  of  color.  Looking  upon  him.  sitting  there  so 
sombre  and  aloof  in  the  gloom  of  the  chateau,  I  seem- 
ed to  be  regarding  a  portrait  by  Rubens  of  some  old 
Fhmish   master. 

Outside,  the  shell-swept  dip  of  the  road  and  the 
hunted  figures  reminded  one  of  battle.  But  in  the 
room  with  the  brigadier  there  dwelt  the' calm  of  ves- 
pers. Once  during  the  early  afternoon  a  shell  came 
crashing  through  the  upper  stories  of  the  chateau.  1 
was  all  atremble.  But  the  br'gadier,  with  whom  I  was 
conversing  at  the  moment,  merely  raised  his  eyebrows 
and  with  cold  indifference  announced:  "That's  pretty 
cloie,  my  boy.  Go  on,  my  boy,  go  or.  Don't  let  that 
interrupt   you." 

Now  and  again  a  sudden  ring  of  the  'phone  told  of 
a  frantic  cry  from  the  trenches  or  the  guns.  Often 
the  adjutant  breathed  with  excitement  a-  lie  told  por- 
tentous news.  Sometimes  there  was  a  pause  as  the 
chief  glanced  at  a  map  of  pondered  dispositions. 
But  his  imperturbable  calm  was  unbroken  and  always 
in  that  quite  low-spoken  voice  he  gave  hi.-  answer. 

Many  a  time  thereafter,  when  I  had  been  far 
forward  in  the  midst  of  battle,  there  came  with  a 
steadying  peace  the  picture  of  that  brigadier.  Two 
weeks  later  our  line  was  suddenly  pierced  by  the  foe. 
Consternation  reigned  in  the  trenches.  During  those 
awful  moments  of  suspense,  while  I  sat  in  battalion 
headquarters  telegraphing  to  our  guns,  there  flashed 
before  me  in  the  shadow  the  memory  of  that  serene 
and  steadfast  face.  In  a  moment  of  such  importance 
for  us  the  memory  of  the  brigadier  seemed  transcen- 
dental, as  the  thought  of  God  Himself.  —  (Harpers, 
New  York.) 

In  the  high-pressure  output  of  war  books 
which  has  marked  the  year  1918,  a  very  pleas- 
ant and.  informing  volume  by  a  Canadian  offi- 
cer has  failed  to  receive  the  attention  which  it 
merits.  This  is  'A  Surgeon  in  Arms,"  by  Robert 
•T.  Manion,  who  served  as  a  captain  in  a  medical 
unit  accompanying  the  Canadian  Corps  in  some 
of  its  finest  work  at  Vimy  Ridge  and  elsewhere, 
ed  th.  .Military  Cross,  and  is  today,  as 
representative  for  Fort  William  and  Port  Ar- 
thur, one  of  the  most  useful  members  of  the 
new  House  of  Commons.  It  is  a  simple  and 
straightforward  account  of  the  experiences  of  a 
man  who  was  obviously  equally  at  home  among 
the  headquarters  officers  and  the  privates,  t1- 
Oxford  undergraduates  of  the  British  of  fie 



January,  1919. 

ness  and  the  most  wildly  Western  of  the  Can- 
adians, and  found  much  human  substance  in  all 
of  them.  He  had  an  interesting  adventure 
with  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  territory  which  was 
far  from  being  "safe,"  he  collected  an  immense 
number  of  really  good  messroom  anecdotes,  he 
made  some  keen  and  scientific  observation  of 
the  behaviour  of  men  in  difficult  situations  and 
of  the  effects  of  shell-shock— and  he  is  com- 
pletely silent  as  to  the  act  of  gallantry  which 
secured  him  his  own  decoration.  Most  of  the 
officers  who  figure  in  his  anecdotal  collection 

are  thinly  disguised  by  initials  and  dashes,  but 
the  military  reader  will  have  little  difficulty  in 
placing  them.  Part  of  the  charm  of  the  discur- 
sive narrative  may  be  due  to  a  strain  of  Irish 
blood  in  the  author.  Surely  nobody  but  an  Irish- 
man would  have  told  us,  concerning  a  fine  Red 
Indian  soldier  from  Canada,  that  but  for  the 
tinge  of  his  skin  "one  would  take  him  what  he 
is — a  well-informed,  educated  North  Ameri- 
can." (McClelland,  Goodchild  &  Stewart,  To- 
ronto, $1.50.) 

The  Education  of  the  New  Canadian 


— A  Ruthenian  mother  lay  dying.  She  asked 
to  see  "Meester  Teacher."  He  came;  she 
took  his  hand,  and,  with  tears  streaming  down 
her  toil-hardened  face,  in  broken  English  she 
said,  "Meester  Teacher,  you  good,  you  like  my 
Mary,  my  John — me  want  them  go  school  learn 
English — me  go  away — good  bye — me  see  you 
after."  And  then  she  died,  but  not  before  she 
had  seen  into  the  soul  of  a  true  Canadian, 
whose  heart  was  as  large  as  the  prairies. 

— I  was  at  a  concert  in  a  little  rural  school, 
where  the  children,  all  non-English,  were  re- 
citing; I  noticed  a  tall  young  man  sobbing 
bitterly.  I  asked  him  why.  In  broken  Eng- 
lish he  told  me  that  he  had  been  denied  the 
privilege  of  learning  English  in  a  public  school. 
He  had  been  the  victim  of  a  tolerance  which 
permitted  a  parochial  school  where  English 
was  seldom  taught. 

At  random  I  have  selected  two  out  of  many 
charming  incidents  related  in  J.  T.  M.  An- 
derson's "The  Education  of  the  New  Cana- 
dian." One  wonders  whether  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  value  of  education  ever  stirs  the 
soul  of  humble  English-speaking  Canadian 
mothers  as  it  did  these  "foreigners." 

The  first  142  pages  of  Mr.  Anderson's  pains- 
taking effort  to  arouse  interest  in  this  very 
serious  problem  have  little  of  human  interest 
and  their  appeal  will  be  chiefly  to  the  student ; 
in  them  he  has  given  us  an  excellent  digest  of 
the  1911  census  returns  as  they  concern  the 
immigrant,  and  by  the  aid  of  well  selected 
passages  from  more  extensive  writings,  such 
as  Dr.  Emily  Balch's  "Our  Slavic  Fellow  Citi- 
zens," has  given  as  a  pen  portrait  of  the  Old 
Land  home  conditions  of  our  immigrant  popu- 
lation. Bi-lingualism,  multi-lingualism  and 
mono-non-English-lingualism,  as  instanced  by 
the  Mennonites,  are  discussed  with  a  courage 
and  conviction  which  comes  from  a  first- 
hand knowledge,  obtained  by  actual  experi- 
ence, of  the  dangers  they  involve. 

Chapter  VIII.,  devoted  to  the  methods  of 
teaching  English,  must  convince  any  impar- 
tial reader  that  the  direct  method  is  the  one 
and  only  method  for  the  children  of  New-Cana- 
dians, and  incidentally  it  affords  an  excellent 

proof  of  the  futility  of  attempting  to  teach 
foreign  languages  to  English  children  as  we 
still  do  for  the  most  part. 

It  is  not  until  Mr.  Anderson  tells  the  story 
of  Marion  Bruce,  the.  department  store  sales 
girl,  who  through  selling  ribbons  and  other 
trifles  to  illiterate  foreign  girls,  caught  the  in- 
spiration which  made  her  an  ideal  teacher,  if 
a  somewhat  unorthodox  one — it  is  not  until 
then  that  he  convinces  us  that  his  interest  in 
his  subject  is  soul-deep  and  not  merely  aca- 
demic. Therefore  I  would  recommend  that  the 
reader  start  at  Chapter  IX.,  convinced  that  it 
will  result  in  his  reading  the  book  from  cover 
to  cover. 

The  problem  of  finding  the  right  type  of 
teacher  would  be  solved  if  Mr.  Anderson's 
book  could  be  read  by  all  the  young  women 
in  our  stores  and  offices,  for  I  am  convinced 
there  are  many  potential  Marion  Bruees 
amongst  them. 

When  on  January  the  first,  1918,  an  "ade- 
cpuate  knowledge"  of  English  or  French  be- 
came a  pre-requisite  to  the  granting  of  Cana- 
dian or  Imperial  citizenship,  it  automatically 
imposed  upon  our  Provincial  Governments  the 
responsibility  of  establishing  Adult  Night 
Schools,  and  Mr.  Anderson  rightly  looks  to 
such  schools  as  the  surest  way  to  prevent  the 
debauchery  of  a  foreign  electorate. 

To  those  of  us  who  have  seen  the  New-Cana- 
dian in  our  larger  cities,  Mr.  Anderson's  book 
leaves  much  to  be  discussed,  for  he  treats  his 
subject  almost  solely  from  the  rural  stand- 
point ;  the  Canadianizing  of  the  city  children 
of  our  New-Canadians  is  a  problem  in  itself, 
and  Mr.  Anderson  wisely  limits  his  discussion 
to  the  field  for  whicli  his  position  as  School 
Inspector  under  the  Saskatchewan  Govern- 
ment eminently  fits  him. 

The  book  should  be  widely  read  in  the  four 
western  provinces  by  all  who  lay  claim  to  be 
really  interested  in  this  vast  problem  of  assimi- 
lation, and  no  Canadian,  wherever  he  lives,  can 
claim  to  know  his  country  unless  he  already 
knows  much  of  what  Mr.  Anderson  gives  in 
such  palatable  form.  (J.  M.  Dent  &  Son,  To- 
ronto, $2.50.) 

January,  1919. 


Mining  Books 

IT  is  generally  recognized  thai  when  the  war- 
is  over  and   tlic   manufacturing  of   muni 
tions  erases.  Canada  must  develop  her  rial 

ural  resources  more  rapidly  and  more  et't'i 
eiently.  We  have  great  mineral  deposits  thai 
are  known,  and  these  must  be  developed  and 
mined  by  the  hest  known  methods.  We  have 
also  large  onprospected  areas  in  which  min- 
eral deposits  probably  occur,  and  the  deposits 
must  be  found.  Books  that  convey  information 
that  will  help  the  prospector  or  the  mine  op- 
erator have  therefore  a  great  field  for  useful- 

Mining  being  one  of  Canada's  basic  indus- 
tries and  the  development  of  our  natural  re- 
sources being  of  the  utmost  national  import- 
ance, we  naturally  expect  to  find  the  Dominion 
and  Provincial  Governments  taking  a  promin- 
ent part  in  the  dissemination  of  useful  infor- 
mation concerning  minerals,  mines  and  meth- 
ods of  treating  ores. 

At  Ottawa  we  have  a  Department  of  Mines 
for  the  purpose  of  gathering  information,  mak- 
ing investigations,  and  advising  the  public,  and 
particularly  those  interesting  themselves  in 
mining,  of  the  results  of  the  work.  The  varied 
publications  of  the  Department  of  Mines  in- 
clude many  important  treatises  as  well  as  re- 
ports of  progress.  Those  provinces  which 
have  control  of  their  mineral  resources  have 
similar  organizations;  Ontario,  British  Col- 
umbia, Quebec  and  Nova  Scotia  mines  depart- 
ments issue  annual  reports  on  mining.  The 
Department  of  the  Interior  which  controls  the 
mineral  resources  of  the  Yukon,  Alberta,  Sas- 
katchewan and  Manitoba,  has  recently  pub- 
lished an  attractive  volume  on  gold  mining  in 
the  Yukon.  One  of  the  most  valuable  treatises 
recently  published  in  Canada  is  the  report  of 
the  Ontario  Nickel  Commission,  which  covers 
in  a  masterly  way  the  nickel  industry. 

Aside  from  Government  publications  there 
are  a  few  books  on  minerals  and  mining  pub- 
lished in  Canada.  Some  years  ago  Copp, 
Clark  &  Co.  published  a  little  book  by  Dr.  W. 
G.  Miller,  Provincial  Geologist  of  Ontario,  en- 
titled "Minerals  and  How  They  Occur."  Most 
of  the  mining  and  metallurgical  books  used  in 
Canada  are  published  in  the  United  States. 
We  will  review  some  of  the  more  recent  ones 
in  these  columns  later. 

In  1914.  shortly  after  the  beginning  of  the 
war.  and  in  recognition  of  the  great  need  for 
concise  information  concerning  our  mineral 
resources,  the  Mines  Publishing  Co.,  publishers 
of  the  Canadian  Mining  Journal,  undertook 
the  publication  of  the  "Canadian  Mining  Man- 
ual." Three  editions  have  been  published,  and 
a  fourth  is  now  in  preparation.  This  new  edi- 
tion will  be  ready  in  December. 

In  this  new  edition  of  the  Canadian  Mining 
Manual  is  to  be  found  information  concerning 
all  minerals,  and  metals  produced  in  Canada, 
mid   all   mining   and    metallurgical   companies 

operating  in  Canada.  Two  Chief  objects  aimed 
al  are  to  present  in  .•our,-,-  form  matter  of  in- 
terest to  persons  connected  with  the  industry 

and  to  attract  attention  to  the  o|  >  port  unit  ies  for 
development  of  our  mineral  resources.  The 
volume  is  exceptionally  well  illustrated  with 
colored  plates,  half-tones  and  line  cuts.  A 
large  number  of  mineral  specimens  are  shown 
iu  natural  size  and  color,  these  plates  includ- 
ing some  of  the  best  reproductions  of  ore  that 
have  ever  been  printed.  Numerous  maps 
show  in  what  parts  of  Canada  known  mineral 
areas  are  situated.  Detail  maps  show  some  of 
the  most  active  mining  districts.  Photographs 
of  plants  and  the  men  in  charge  of  mining  and 
metallurgical  works  are  numerous.  The  vol- 
ume is  attractively  bound  in  cloth.  The  page 
is  large,  8."  x  11",  to  permit  the  use  of  the  col- 
ored plates  and  maps  and  to  allow  illustrations 
to  be  run  closely  to  their  text. 

This  edition  being  published  about  the  end  of 
the  year,  it  has  been  possible  to  give  a  prelimin- 
ary summary  of  progress  during  1918.  The 
recently  published  official  records  for  the  year 
1917  are  also  summarized.  Some  of  the  import- 
ant developments  during  1918  are  then  briefly 
referred  to. 

In  the  section  of  the  book  devoted  to  mine 
products  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  present 
some  useful  information  concerning  the  char- 
acter, use  and  occurrence  of  each  mineral.  The 
minerals  are  treated  in  alphabetical  order,  and 
the  amount  of  space  given  to  them  varies.  Ow- 
ing to  the  great  demand  recently  for  informa- 
tion concerning  certain  minerals  and  metals. 
special  attention  is  given  to  "war  minerals," 
such  as  maguesite,  fluorite,  pyrite,  molybden- 
ite, etc. 

If  the  mineral  is  produced  in  considerable 
quantity,  there  is  given  information  concerning 
nature  and  composition  of  the  mineral,  places 
of  occurrence  in  Canada,  methods  of  mining 
and  treating  the  ore,  selling  prices  during  1918 
and  uses.  If  the  production  is  very  large,  or 
of  special  importance,  as  in  the  case  of  coal 
in  Nova  Scotia,  Alberta  and  British  Columbia ; 
gold,  silver  and  nickel  in  Ontario;  asbestos, 
chromite,  magnesite  and  molybdenite  in  Que- 
bec; copper,  lead  and  zinc  in  British  Colum- 
bia, several  pages  are  devoted  to  the  industry. 

A  second  large  section  of  the  book  is  de- 
voted to  mining  and  metallurgical  companies 
operating  in  Canada.  In  each  case  is  given  the 
office  address  and  the  location  of  the  property 
and  the  name  of  the  manager.  In  most  cases 
capitalization,  names  of  directors,  officers,  na- 
ture of  operations,  recent  financial  statement 
and  record  of  production  during  the  last  year 
are  given.  The  companies  are  treated  in  al- 
phabetical order. 

Another  feature  of  the  book  is  a  list  of  the 
companies  classified  according  to  product. 
("Canadian  Mining  Manual.  1918,"  edited  by 
Reginald  E.  Hore.  Mines  Publishing  Company, 
Toronto,  $5.) 



January,  1019. 

A  Novel  of  Hate  for  Hatred 

THERE  have  of  late  years  been  those  am- 
ongst us  who  have  sought  to  erect  hatred 
into  one  of  the  cardinal  virtues — hatred 
of  individuals,  hatred  of  a  uation,  not  the  im- 
personal and  eminently  righteous  hatred  which 
loathes  the  sin  while  leaving  it  to  God  to  judge 
the  sinner.  It  has  been  surmised  that  "Q" 
(Sir  Arthur  Quiller-Couch  I  wrote  his  latest 
novel,  "Foe-Farrell."  with  the  express  inten- 
tion of  combatting  this  new  gospel  of  implac- 
ability; and  it  is  true  that  in  the  epilogue  to 
his  masterly  study  of  the  psychological  effects 
of  hatred  upon  both  subject  and  object  he  does 
make  an  immediate  application  to  "this  blast- 
ed war."  Says  Major  Sir  Roderick  Otway,  who 
has  told  the  tale  in  a  series  of  quiet  evenings,  to 
his  fellow-officers  in  their  common  dug-out: 
"As  I  see  it,  the  more  you  beat  Fritz  by  becom- 
ing like  him,  the  more  he  has  won."  And  it  is 
true  also  that  a  perusal  of  this  tale,  and  a  care- 
ful scrutiny  (such  as  the  perusal  will  inevit- 
ably suggest)  of  the  lives  of  men  and  women 
whom  we  ourselves  personally  know,  who  have 
allowed  the  motive  of  hatred  to  become  active 
and  predominant  in  their  lives,  will  bring 
forcibly  before  us  the  deterioration  of 
character  which  hatred  brings  about.  This  is 
one  strong  reason  why  "Foe-Farrell"  may  be 
commended  to  those  who  are  in  search  of  a 
good  novel  for  a  Christmas  gift.  It  is  a  book 
whose  influence  cannot  fail  to  be  for  the  bet- 
terment of  the  spirit.  Another  reason  is  that 
"Q"  is  one  of  the  few  authors  of  the  present 
day  who,  having  a  very  enthralling  tale  to  tell, 
can  still  be  trusted  to  preserve  the  niceties  of 
a  just  literary  style  amid  all  the  excitement. 
And  the  third  reason  is  that  "Foe-Farrell"  : 
precisely  an  enthralling  tale. 

Foe  is  the  hater  and  Farrell  the  hated.  In 
the  beginning  the  right  is  absolutely,  incontest- 
ably,  on  the  side  of  Foe.  While  his  wound  is 
fresh  he  would  be  justified  (since  we  do  not 
ask  for  cool   judgment   and  self-restraint  from 

men  who  are  in  exquisite  suffering)  in  almost 
any  form  of  attack  against  his  base  and  coward- 
ly opponent.  But  it  is  a  law  of  nature  that  Time 
must  heal  all  things,  and  that  that  which  Time 
cannot  heal  is  not  fit  for  life;  and  Foe  refuses 
to  be  healed.  He  has  money  and  leisure,  and 
he  sets  himself  to  the  deliberate  task  of  making 
existence  intolerable  for  Farrell.  He  converts 
his  hatred  into  an  art,  playing  with  exquisite 
skill  upon  all  the  weakest  ner\es  of  Farrell 's 
system,  and  when  Farrell,  through  the  unsel- 
fish love  of  a  woman,  is  on  the  point  of  rising 
to  the  utmost  of  his  capabilities  and  making 
himself  and  his  life  worth  while.  Foe  inter- 
venes and  hurls  him  down  to  the  depths.  Fin- 
ally, by  an  act  of  calculated  baseness  of  which 
the  pre-hatred  Foe  would  have  been  utterly 
incapable,  he  abandons  Farrell  alone  upon  a 
desert  island  (the  story  of  the  shipwreck  and  of 
the  drifting  boats  with  the  survivors  is  one  of 
the  finest  things  that  "Q"  has  evei  tvritten), 
and  thus  surrenders  all  the  moral  advantage 
which  he  ever  had  over  his  adversary.  And  as 
the  character  of  Foe  deteriorates  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  hatred-virus,  so  the  character  of 
Farrell.  partly  as  the  result  of  his  unjustified 
persecution,  gradually  strengthens  in  some  re- 
spects, and  the  ultimate  catastrophe  is  preci- 
pitated by  an  act  of  singular  generosity  on  his 
part,  which  maddens  the  now  obsessed  Foe  to 
the  point  of  actual  murder. 

"We  do  not  believe  that  this  tale  was  set  go- 
ing in  Sir  Arthur's  mind  by  any  propagandist 
motive.  It  is  too  good  a  tale  for  that,  told  with 
too  much  zest  and  too  racy  an  interest,  not  in 
its  moral,  but  in  its  matter.  Hatred  is  always  a 
profoundly  interesting  subject  to  the  psychol- 
ogist, and  there  is  plenty  of  it  even  in  times 
of  peace.  An  author  like  Sir  Arthur  does  not 
write  his  important  novels  as  if  they  were  pam- 
phlets or  tracts  for  the  times,  which  is  no  rea- 
son why  they  should  not  be  timely.  (Macmillan, 
Toronto.     $1.50) 

Notre  Dame  de  Montreal 

I   enter   those    great    doors, 

And  all  around  me  is  so  dim  and  still, 

I  fear  to  tread  the  floors 

Lest   my  own   footsteps   in   the   treading  will 

Cry  out  my  presence  there; 

And.  for  I  feel  so  small  in  that  great  place. 

I  do  not  even  dare 

To  look  about  me,  but  would  fain  efface 

Myself  in  some  back  pew, 

And  see  the  kneeling  figures  at  their  prayer. 

And  candles,  lit  anew; 

The  smell  of  incense  in  the  shadow'd  air; 

The  straggling  light  of  day; 

The    saints    that   look    down    calmly   from    the 

wall ; 
\nd — more   than   I   can   say — 
The  nameless  Silence  that  is  over  all  . 

Margaret  Hilda  Wise. 

January,  L919 

CANADIAN   Hook  1/  1  \ 


A  New  Birmingham 

SI  >.\1  B  people,  when  the}  go  oul  lor  a  walk, 
like  a  companion  who  will  take  them  by 
the  most  direct  possible  route  to  the 
place  where  they  want  to  go.  Others  like  a 
companion  who  is  not  sure  that  they  want  to 
go  anywhere,  and  who  will  take  them  wander- 
ni-  all  round  the  adjacent  country  and  dilate 
upon  the  beauties  oS  tihe  wayside  flowei-B, 
the  architecture  of  the  houses,  the  culinary 
(tract  iees  of  the  inhabitants  as  revealed  by 
chimney-smokes,  and  kiteheii-door  aromas. 
Taste  in  story-tellers  varies  in  much  the  same 
way.  Those  who  like  the  divagatory  method 
like  "George  A.  Birmingham,"  and  there  is  no 
denying  the  Irish  charm  of  his  comments  by 
the  way.  Canon  Haimay  is  a  "natural  born" 
story-teller,  ami  can  weave  a  plot — enough  of 
a  plot  to  carry  his  gentle  meandering  narra- 
tive— upon  any  foundation  of  circumstances 
that  may  be  given  him ;  so  it  is  not  surprising  to 
find  him  romancing  mihlly  and  pleasantly 
about  the  war.  "The  Island  Mystery"  is  not 
particularly  good  literature,  certainly  not  com- 
parable witli  its  author's  best  work,  such  as 
"Spanish  Gold-'  or  that  exquisitely  whimsical 
yet  gently  satirical  play,  "General  John  Re- 
gan"; but  it  will  while  an  hour  very  ingra- 
tiatingly, and  will  leave  a  few  enlightening  re- 
flections in  the  reader's  mind.  It  deals  with 
an  American  pacifist  millionaire,  his  daughter 
Daisy,  who  wants  to  be  a  real  queen,  an  Irish 
M.P.,  with  a  keen  eye  for  20  p.c.  commissions, 
King  Konrad  Karl  of  Megalia,  a  villain  in  the 
person  of  von  Moll  of  the  Kaiser's  secret  ser- 
vice, and  a  hero  in  the  person  of  Captain 
Phillips,  of  the  British  Merchant  Marine. 
These  disport  themselves  upon  an  island  which 
the  American  millionaire  buys  from  Konrad 
Karl  in  order  that  his  daughter  may  have 
something  to  be  queen  of,  and  the  action  takes 
place  in  and  near  August,  1914.  Enough  said. 
One  is  left  with  the  feeling  that  Mr.  Oppen- 
heim  could  have  done  something  like  this  much 
better,  and  that  Canon  Hannay  could  have 
done  something  much  better,  but  quite  differ- 
ent. This  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  there  are 
many  pages  bearing  the  authentic  Hannay 
touch  of  humor,  which  Mr.  Oppenheim  could 
not  begin  to  approach  in  a  lifetime,  and  that 
Konrad  Karl's  passion  for  twisting  the  English 
idiom  is  genuinely'  and  exquisitely  ludicrous. 
(McClelland,  Goodchild  &  Stewart,  Toronto, 

A  Vancouver  Novel 

IF  the  amateur  novelists  and  poets  of  British 
Columbia  (who  appear  to  be  somewhat 
numerous)  had  one-half  as  much  of  techni- 
cal skill  as  they  have  of  enthusiasm  for  the 
beauties  of  their  glorious  Province,  they  would 
be  a  formidable  band  of  artists.  But  high  ro- 
mantic beauty  in  a  landscape  is  a  positive  dan- 
ger to  those  inexperienced  writers  who  at- 
tempt to  portray  that  beauty  or  to  suggest  that 

romai in  verse  or  tale.    Familiar  them-' 

w  nil   the  aesthetic  effeel   of  the  place  v. 
their    imagined    comedy     or    tragedy    occulta, 

they  think  that  that  effeel  can  be  conveyed  to 
the  ordinary  reader-  |,\  a  few  place  names 
and  a   I'ew  conventional  adj.-  1 

Vl ouver.  is  beyond  all  doubt  the  world's 

ideal  spot  for  love  niakiu<_'  in  a  canoe;  but  the 
reader  who  has  not  8een  :t  will  hardly  imag- 
111.  it  from  Robert  Allison  Hood's  description 
of  its  charms   at   sundown  : 

The    Bhimmerlng    lints    of    crimson    and    violet    and 

3  .li..w  and   sold;  il \-  r:i.i- 

iance  gradually  dies   away,   the  dark   blues   and   ]  ur- 

of  tin-  lolls  outlined  I  he  sky;  the  f; 

ing   li-lii^    of    tli''     fishin  th.! 

on;  .-in. I  then,  i   full  of  ^'aple, 

behind,  the  town  nil  cheery  with  its  str.-.-t   lamps 

ana   its   countless  gleaming  win. lows. 

All  of  these  things  are  common  to  several 
thousand  other  bays  on  the  world's  surface, 
and  strangely  fail  1.1  evoke  the  characteristic 
quality  of  English  Bay.  Nor  does  the  enumer- 
ation of  such  names  as  "Second  Beach,"  "Fer- 
guson Pont."  "Stanley  Park."  "Point  At- 
kinson" do  any  more  for  us.  though  to  the 
writer  those  terms  are  doubtless  loaded  with 
poetic  significance,  derived  from  his  personal 
experiences.  It  is  always  the  amateur  in 
water-colors,  who  selects  as  subject  the  old 
family  homestead  where  he  or  she  was  brought 
up.  or  the  little  island  where  they  picnicked 
in  summer  and  where  love's  young  dream 
first  shed  its  rosy  light ;  thereby  trying  to 
make  local  sentiment  do  the  work  that  should 
be  done  by  art.  The  professional  carefully  se- 
lects his  subject  not  for  any  adventitious  ro- 
mance which  it  may  possess  in  his  mind  and  his 
alone,  but  for  its  pure  representable  beauty, 
and  sets  himself  to  portray  that  heauty  just 
as  if  he  had  never  seen  the  place  before  and 
never  made  love  or  been  made  love  to  in  the 
midst  of  it.  To  do  that  he  needs  technique,  in 
literature  just  as  much  as  in  water-colors,  and 
the  above  extract  will  show  that  Mr.  Hood  has 
not  the  technique.  His  novel  is  called  "The 
Chivalry  of  Keith  Leicester,"  and  is  as  ama- 
teur in  character-drawing  and  action  as  in  de- 
scription. (McClelland,  Goodchild  &  Stewart, 
Toronto,  $1.50). 

Courage  and  Audacity? 

WHETHER  it  was  courage  or  audacitj 
which  led  to  the  decision  to  offer  to  the 
Canadian  and  American  public  an  Ei 
lish  translation  of  the  early  novel,  "L'Enfer," 
by  the  famous  author  of  "Under  Fire,"  is  a 
question  which  must  be  decided  by  the  reader 
after  he  has  formed  his  opinion  of  the  merits 
and  sincerity  of  the  book;  it  was  certainly  one 
or  the  other.  This  astonishing  novel  has  had 
an  immense  vogue  in  France,  owing  in  part  to 
the  unashamed  nakedness  of  some  of  its  epi- 
sodes, but  in  part  also  to  its  undeniable  and  to 
some  minds  attractive  philosophy.  It  should 
be  added  that  a  good  many  pages  of  the  book 



January,  1919. 

are  utterly  impossible  of  general  publication  in 
English,  and  are  omitted  without  much  indica- 
tion to  the  English  reader  of  what  he  may  be 
missing.     How   far   these   ultra-frank    portions 

of  the  narrative  may  be  n ssary  to  convey  the 

full  value  of  Henri  Barbusse's  philosophy,  it 
is  a  little  difficult  to  tell  when  one  has  read  the 
French  version  before  the  English,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  present  critic.  Certainly  the  book 
is  not  one  to  be  read  in  English  by  anybody 
who  can  possibly  read  it  in  French;  but  that 
has  somewhat  the  air  of  a  general  statement 
which  might  be  applied  to  all  translations.  "The 
Inferno"  is  the  record,  in  autobiographic  form, 
of  two  or  three  months  spent  by  a  neurotic,  im- 
aginative and  analytical  young  Frenchman  in  a 
Paris  lodging  house  where  his  room  possesses  a 
concealed  hole  in  the  wall  which  enables  him  to 
observe  everything  which  goes  on  in  the  ad- 
jacent apartment.  Such  a  device,  capable  of 
being  used  for  a  tale  of  the  baldest  animalism, 
is  also  capable  of  being  used  for  the  exposition 
of  a  picture  of  human  life  as  it  might  be  seen 
by  a  piece  of  furniture,  or  rather  by  a  non- 
human  spirit  confined  to  a  single  spot  and  pos- 
sessing but  a  single  sense,  that  of  sight,  and 
beholding  only  the  isolated  event  of  a  moment  or 
of  an  hour,  without  any  of  the  processes  which 
lead  up  to  and  follow  it.  And  so  seen,  life  has 
a  new  aspect,  an  aspect  which  will  be  repugnant 
to  most  people,  but  which  is  undeniably  inter- 
esting— an  aspect  of  almost  mechanical  inevit- 
ability, of  cruelty,  of  intense  isolation  of  the 
human  individual,  of  a  meaningless  aud  bar- 
barous repetition  of  animal  processes.  The 
kinship  with  the  philosophy  of  "Under  Fire" 
is  unmistakeable,  a  philosophy  of  revolt  against 
the  compulsion  which  drives  the  spirit  of  man, 
capable  of  such  soaring  flights,  through  the 
dreary  round  of  the  necessities  of  the  flesh. 
"He  perceives,"  says  Edward  J.  O'Brien,  the 
translator,  in  a  clever  little  Introduction,  "that 
each  man  is  an  island  of  illimitable  forces  apart 
from  his  fellows,  passionately  eager  to  live  his 
own  life  to  the  last  degree  of  self -fulfilment, 
but  continually  thwarted  by  nature  and  by 
other  men  and  women,  until  death  interposes 
and  sets  the  seal  of  oblivion  upon  all  that  he 
has  dreamed  and  sought."  Such  a  book  is  not 
to  be  hastily  dismissed  for  going  too  far,  nor 
its  translation  for  not  going  far  enough.  (Mus- 
sou,  Toronto,  $1.50.) 

Good  to  Walk  the  World  With 

Good  to  walk  the  world  with, 

Such    a  mate! 
Good  to  love  and  live  with, 

Soon  and  late. 

Good   to  take  God's  sending, 

Though   it   be 
But   a   by-path  wending 

To    the   sea. 

Good  to  walk  the  path  with. 

Such    a    friend! 
Good  to  sail  the  sea  with. 

At  the  end. 

— Carroll  Aikins,  "Poems." 

A  Literary  Elephant  Piling  Logs 

THEODORE  Dreiser,  as  an  American  writer 
has  already  remarked,  does  not  do  him- 
self justice  when  he  attempts  to  write 
short  stories;  but  that  is  far  from  saying  his 
short  stories  in  the  volume  "Free,  And  Other 
Stories"  are  not  worth  reading.  Perhaps 
they  fail  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  people 
to  whom  short  stories  are  a  mere  means  of 
titilating  their  rather  feeble  consciousnesses  in 
the  intervals  between  working,  eating,  sleep- 
ing and  exploring  sex.  They  are  not  of  the 
kind  designed  to  whip  the  flagging  interest 
of  the  tired  servant  girl ;  nor  the  paregoric 
to  soothe  minds  that  might  otherwise  discover 
their  own  vacuity.  They  are  not  outstanding 
good  examples  of  the  story-telling  art.  But 
they  are  acceptable  and  readable  comments  on 
life — and  on  Mr.  Theodore  Dreiser;  especially 
Mr.  Dreiser. 

Dreiser — to  paraphrase  an  American  ad- 
mirer of  his — requires  a  large  canvass.  He 
is  no  painter  of  miniatures,  though  occasional- 
ly he  does  a  bit  of  excellent  character  draw- 
ing in  a  short  paragraph.  He  is  obviously  a 
German-American,  with  the  German  clumsi- 
ness, slowness,  patience,  and  the  American 
wistful  sincerity  and  obsession  with  the  things 
of  sex.  He  works  like  an  elephant  piling 
logs,  but  the  logs  are  interesting  and  well- 
piled.  In  the  short  story  he  is  cramped  for 
room.  His  sincerity  will  not  allow  him  to  use 
the  short-cuts,  the  stagey  devices,  the  "ef- 
fective" arrangements  of  the  brilliant  short- 
story  writer.  He  spurns  invention  and 
stalks  solemnly  ahead  with  his  record  of  truth 
as  he  sees  it. 

These  short  stories  reveal  Dreiser  in  the 
same  way  that  an  intellectual's  attempt  at 
small  talk  in  a  parlour  usually  reveals  the 
intellectual.  His  style  is  not  musical.  His 
construction  is  not  neat,  but  there  remain  a 
certain  shrewd  but  kindly  insight  into  human 
motives  and  a  certain  dogged  sincerity  in  re- 
cording them.  Only  occasionally  he  forgets  to 
remain  detached  from  his  stories.  He  is  more 
a  student,  awed  a  bit  by  the  procession  of  life 
as  he  sees  it,  than  an  artist.  That  other  mod- 
ern American,  Ilergcsheimer,  is  more  the  artist. 
Dreiser's  hand  is  a  bit  thumby.  He  sometimes 
forgets  that  there  are  people  in  the  world  who 
have  outlived  the  distressing  manifestations 
of  early  sex  impulses.  But  Dreiser  is  sincere, 
shrewd  and  able  in  his  big  round  way,  and  no 
mean  figure  in  the  little  world  of  real  Ameri- 
can letters. 

It  might  be  said  of  him  that  he  is  apparently 
probing  always  for  what  is  universal,  not  what 
is  exceptional.  In  this  book  of  short  stories, 
for  example,  there  are  not  individualities  such 
as  a  Dickens  presents.  Dreiser  scorns  the 
novel,  the  melodramatic  and  is  arrested  only  by 
some  new  and  glowing  symbol  of  the  human, 
the  constant,  the  universal.  Sometimes  he 
holds  up  as  universal  something  not  so  at  all. 
The  first  story  "Free,"  fails  on  that  account. 
"McEwen  of  the  Slave-makers"  is  merely  an 



CANADIA  \    BOOK  \l  I  \ 


experiment.  'Bui  "The  Second  Choice," 
"Nigger  Jeff,"  "The  Losl  Phoebe,"  and  '  Old 
Rogaum  and  His  Theresa  these  ring  true. 
"Tlie  Losl  Phoebe"  and  "Old  Rogautrt  and  Bis 
Theresa"  have  a  nicely  restrained  tenderness 
that  places  them  in  a  high  class.  "A  Story  nf 
Stories"  is  the  besl  newspaper  tale  the  presenl 
writer  has  read  hut  that  leaves  il  Ear  below 
the  other  just  mentioned.  "Will  Sou  Walk 
into  my  Parlor, "  is  interesting,  bul  not  excep 
tional.  The  stori.s  toward  the  hack  are,  even 
I'm-  Dreiser,  dull;  ho  has  not  articulated  his 
idea.  But  Dreiser  himself  is  too  unusual 
among  Amer  can  writers  to  b< idemned  for 

a   dull    moment   or  two.      It    is   g 1   to   read   an 

American  who  never  tries  to  he  brilliant,  who 
is  just  a  patient,  wise  and  honest  draftsman 
of  life  as  he  sees  it.    i  Musson,  Toronto,  $1.50   . 

A  Canadian's  Beautiful  Book 

IT  is  not  often  that  a  Canadian  author  en- 
joys the  privilege  of  seeing  his  work  pro- 
duced in  such  exquisite  printed  form  as 
that  in  which  the  Bodley  Head  (in  Canada,  S. 
B.  Gundy  i  has  embodied  "Canadian  Wonder 
Tales,"  by  Cyrus  Maemillan.  The  score  or 
mole  of  rich  color  illustrations  by  George 
Sheringham,  one  of  the  English  painters  who 
are  most  deft  in  designing  for  modern  color- 
reproduction  processes,  would  alone  engage 
the  attention  of  the  seeker  after  fine  bookcraft. 
even  without  the  special  Canadian  interest  of 
the  subject-matter  and  the  Foreword  by  Sir 
William  Peterson,  K.C.M.G.  The  latter  docu- 
ment reveals  the  fact,  which  will  be  no  news 
to  many  Montrealers,  and  to  students  of  Can- 
adian folklore  generally,  that  Captain  Mae- 
millan, the  author  of  this  volume,  is  a  soldier- 
student,  who  interrupted  his  teaching  work 
in  Montreal  to  go  overseas  with  one  of  the 
McGill  Batteries,  and  who  completed  the  tran- 
scription and  arrangement  of  the  Tales  in  the 
intervals  between  periods  of  artillery  activity 
"Somewhere  in  France."  The  author's  method, 
says  Principal  Peterson,  resembles  that  of  the 
Brothers  Grimm.  He  lias  taken  down  from 
the  lips  of  living  people  "a  series  of  stories 
which  obviously  contain  many  elements  that 
have  been  handed  down  by  oral  tradition  from 
some  far-off  past."  Most  of  them  are  animal 
stories,  in  which  the  fox.  the  bear,  the  beaver 
and  the  eagle  speak  with  human  tongues  and 
exhibit  many  human  qualities.  Some  contain 
mythical  explanations  of  the  origin  of  natural 
phenomena,  such  as  the  Northern  Lights.  The 
book  is  designed  primarily  to  interest  children  ; 
but  even  they,  we  should  have  supposed,  would 
have  appreciated  some  hint  of  the  sources  of 
the  respective  stories,  which  appear  on  the  sur- 
face to  be  partly  Indian  (of  many  different 
tribes!,  partly  Eskimo,  and  partly  primitive 
French-Canadian,  but  are  not  accompanied  by 
any  information  which  would  enable  us  to 
distinguish  one  class  from  the  other.  Pos- 
sibly ^Captain  Maemillan  proceeds  on  the 
theory  that  if  Canadian  children  are  nourished 

upon    the   substance   of   Canadian    folklore    in 

their   early   youth,    thej    will   develop   an    inter 

est    in   its  origins  and   signifieai when   they 

reach   mature  years;  Inn   this  tl ry  should  not 

have   prevented   him    from   giving  some  Blight 
historical  explanation  even  in  the  present   vol 
umc,  which   we  conceive  is  one  thai   will     be 
treasured  and   referred  to  for  many  years  by 

such    children    as    have    the    freshness    of    mind 
to   appreciate   it. 

The    talcs  are    narrated    with    wonderful   sim- 
plicity   and    directness,    and    without    the    taint 

est  suspicion  of  moralising  or  didactiveness 

precisely,  In  fact,  as  the  primitive  narrators 
who  have  handed  on  the  oral  tradition  would 
tell  them  in  t In-  i-  own  wigwams  or  cabanes  or 
Air.  Sheringham  \s  illustrations,  while 
highly  decorative  and  full  of  technical  skill, 
contain  no  attempt  at  realistic  local  color,  but 
considering  the  nature  and  purpose  of  the  book 
we  are  not  disposed  to  make  tiiat  a  subject  of 
reproach.  II  s  style  is  wonderfully  delicate  and 
refined,  and  those  who  wish  their  children  to 
form  then-  earliest  conception  of  the  primi- 
tive inhabitants  of  Canada  in  a  thoroughly 
poetic  atmosphere — an  atmosphere  of  mists 
ami  stars  and  aurora  shot  through  with  magic 
and  wonderment — cannot  do  better  than  to 
place  in  their  hands  this  collection  of  Wonder 
Tales.      iS.  11.  Gundy,  Toronto.)     * 

For  Children  Over  Thirty 

FOR  children  who  have  graduated  from  the 
class  in  Aubrey  Beardsley  and  taken  their 
first  lessons  in  Van  Gogh,  we  know  of  no 
better  volume  for  the  succeeding  stage  of 
their  instruction  than  "The  Rhynie  Garden," 
by  Marguerite  Buller  Allan,  a  well  known 
artist  and  poet  of  Montreal.  That  few  children 
reach  this  stage  of  taste-development  before 
the  age  of  thirty  in  no  wise  affects  the  issue. 
Mrs.  Allan's  volume  conveys  in  some  mysteri- 
ous manner  the  impression  of  being  intended 
for  children,  but  nowhere  does  she  suggest  that 
it  is  intended  for  young  children — say  those 
under  thirty.  We  tried  it  on  one  young  man 
of  nine  and  found  him  extremely  contemptp- 
ous,  but  this  proves  nothing  save  the  spread  of 
Philistinism  among  the  rising  generation. 
Some  children  of  over  thirty  may  feel  a  cer- 
tain hesitancy  about  purchasing  "The  Rhyme 
Garden.''  for  their  own  enjoyment,  on  ac- 
count of  its  obvious  lack  of  solemnity  of  pur- 
pose; to  all  such  we  would  recommend  that 
they  buy  it  as  a  Christmas  present  for  some 
juvenile  child  in  the  household,  and  then  sur- 
reptitiously abstract  it  while  the  juvenile  is 
occupied  with  some  more  exciting  gift,  It  is 
ten  to  one  that  the  juvenile  will  not  miss  it. 
and  a  hundred  to  one  that  the  donor  will  be 
overjoyed  to  get  it  back.  Mrs.  Allan's  wildly 
exuberant  extravagances  of  color  and  line 
familar  to  a  good  many  Canadians  from  her 
exhibit  in  recent  art  shows)  are  a  delight  to 
the  sophisticated  eye.  and  her  verse  is  thor- 
oughly  in   keeping  with   their   fantastic   play- 



January,  1919. 

fulness.  There  are  eight  color  plates  and  a 
large  number  of  black-and-white  decorations 
in  the  text.  The  flavor  of  the  verses  is  better 
given  by  a  sample  than  by  any  amount  of 'de- 


The   scarecrow   watched   the   moon   come   up 
And   laughed   both   long   and   loud, 

The    timid,    disconcerted    moon, 
Sank   back   behind    a   cloud. 

And  when  the  morning  sun  shone  out, 

The  scarecrow  mocked  the  sun, 
He   laughed   so   much    the   ears   of   wheat, 

Joined  gaily  in  his  fun. 

"The  splendid  sun  and  stately  moon, 

Why  do  you  jeer  at  these, 
Whose   beauty   every  poet   sings  ? ' ' 

I   asked  him.     "Tell  me,  please." 

The   scarecrow  in  a  softened  mood 

Wept   very   bitterly. 
He  said,   "I   have   to  laugh   at  them, 

Or    they    would    laugh    at    me.' ' 

The  same  idea  is  repeated  in  another  form 
in  the  verses  entitled:  "The  Disagreeable  Bull- 
dog,'' which  tell  us  how  the  bulldog  mocked  at 
the  half-shaved  poodle,  and  "cared  not  in  the 
least"  when  that  sensitive  animal  grieved  and 

He    just    continued    mocking   him; 

You  never  would  have  guessed 
How   much   he   envied   in   his   heart, 

The  way  the  poodle  dressed! 

Is  it  too  much  to  conjecture  that  these  alle- 
geries  contain  the  artistic  profession  of  faith 
of  Mrs.  Buller  Allan,  and  her  fellow  innova- 
tors at  recent  Canadian  picture-shows?  Is  she 
notifying  the  Philistines  that  they  cannot  laugh 
at  her,  according  to  the  rules  of  the  game,  be- 
cause she  and  her  art  have  first  laughed  at 
them?       s.   B.   Gundy,   Toronto). 

Fighting  France 

AMONG  the  propaganda  volumes  of  the 
year  1918  (whose  book  lists  on  this  con- 
tinent have  been  largely  made  up  of  vol- 
umes issued  with  the  primary  intent  of  ad- 
vancing the  sympathy  and  understanding  be- 
tween different  nations  of  the  anti-Teutonic 
alliance,  and  especially  between  the  United 
States  and  her  various  colleagues),  there  are 
few  with  more  claim  to  a  permanent  place  in 
literature  than  "Fighting  France,"  by  Ste- 
phane  Lauzanne,  lieutenant  in  the  French 
Army,  Chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  edi- 
tor-in-chief of  Le  Matin,  and  this  year  a  mem- 
ber of  the  French  Mission  to  the  United 
States.  M.  Lauzanne,  though  a  journal'st  by 
profession,  is  also  an  artist  in  language ;  the 
two  things  are  less  incompatible  in  France 
than  in  most  English-speaking  countries.  He 
does  not,  however,  write  in  English,  and  the 
translation  of  the  present  volume,  by  John  L. 
B.  Williams,  a  former  fellow  of  Princeton, 
shows  occasional  traces  of  undue  hurry,  such 
■as  tlir  meaningless  literalism:  "articles  (of  the 

Hague  Convention;  which  .  .  .  offer  a  pro- 
digious interest  to  actuality."  Generally 
speaking,  however,  the  peqfeet  clarity  and 
simplicity  of  M.  Lauzanne 's  writings  shows 
clearly  enough  through  the  translation. 

Part  of  the  book  is  devoted  to  an  exposition 
of  France's  war  aims,  and  is  of  the  highest  in- 
terest at  the  moment  when  this  review  is  be 
ing  written.  M.  Lauzanne  dwells  upon  some 
of  the  difficulties  surrounding  the  project  of 
the  League  of  Nations,  and  shows  how  many 
sentimentalists  have  overlooked  one  absolute 
prerequisite  which  the  President  laid  down  for- 
cibly enough.  This  is  the  condition  embodied 
in  President  "Wilson's  statement  that  "no  auto- 
cratic government  could  be  trusted  to  keep 
faith  within  a  partnership  of  nations  or  ob- 
serve its  covenants."  A  Germany  still  militar- 
istic is,  to  M.  Lauzanne,  a  Germany  with  whom 
no  League  is  possible.  And  he  proposes  that 
the  Allies  use  their  economic  power  to  break 
down  Germany's  militarism  if  Germany  does 
not  break  it  down  herself.  Let  the  Allies  say 
to  Germany,  he  suggests:  "As  long  as  you 
have  a  military  and  naval  budget  of  four  hun- 
dred millions  of  dollars,  we  regret  that  we  shall 
be  unable  to  sell  you  wool  and  copper.  "We  re- 
gret that  we  shall  be  unable  to  buy  anything 
from  you.  But,  if  you  reduce  this  budget  by 
half,  we  are  willing  to  give  you  one  million 
metric  quintals  of  wool  and  125,000  tons  of 
copper."  And  so  on,  increasing  the  permitted 
volume  of  trade  with  every  reduction  in  the 
German  war  machine.  (McClelland,  Goodchild 
&   Stewart,  Toronto,  $1.50). 

Lt.-Col.  L.  G.  Desjardins'  book  entitled 
"  1/Angleterre,  le  Canada  et  la  Grande 
Guerre,"  which  rapidly  passed  through  two 
editions  in  the  original  French,  has  now  been 
translated  into  English  under  the  title  of 
"England,  Canada  and  the  Great  War."  It 
is  an  able  statement  of  the  views  of  that  con- 
siderable element  of  the  French-Canadian 
population  which  heartily  supports  the  action 
of  Canada  in  going  into  the  war  to  the  limit  of 
its  powers  and  resources,  and  while  its  au- 
thor's chief  object  in  writing  the  original  ver- 
sion was  to  set  before  his  French-speaking 
countrymen  a  more  correct  view  of  the  inter- 
national situation  than  that  which  had  been 
most  noisily  brought  to  their  attention  by  a 
section  of  their  press  (a  function  which  was 
evidently  fulfilled  with  some  success),  the 
present  translation  will  be  of  value  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  English-speaking  readers 
the  point  of  view  of  a  pro-war  "Canadien." 
The  translation,  unfortunately,  is  far  from  be- 
ing idiomatic,  and  does  not  do  justice  to  Col- 
mud  Desjardins'  style.  In  substance  the  book 
is.  by  the  very  nature  of  its  origin,  negative 
and  critical  rather  than  constructive — a  cor- 
rective of  Bourassism  rather  than  an  all-round 
exposition  of  Canadianism.  At  the  beginning 
of  this  year  there  was  occasion  for  such  a 
negative,  and  corrective  work,  but  the  need 
can    scarcely    be    permanent. 


Canadian  booh  m  \  \ 

The  Cow  Puncher 

ROBERT  J.  C.  Stead  stands  oul  somewhal 
from  among  the  younger  generation  of 
residenl  Canadian  novelists,  in  spite  of 
being  as  much  addicted  as  any  of  thera  to  the 
Wild  Wesl  lo, -airs  so  favi  ured  by  our  Am- 
erican cinematograph  friends,  owing  to  a  cer- 
tain unmistakeable  sincerity  of  literary  pur 
pose.  Whether  this  sincerity  is  any  greal  as 
sistance  for  the  production  of  a  frankly  melo- 
dramatic frontier  novel  is  open  to  some  doubt, 
Imii  it  will  certainly  be  of  value  when  Mr. 
Stead  takes  to  the  portrayal  of  more  normal 
and  more  accurately  observed  Canadian  life. 
At  present  he  creates  the  impression  of  a 
man  who  is  rather  reluctantlj  and  warily 
grinding  the  handle  of  a  well-worn  Ameri- 
can patent  novel-producer,  guaranteed  to  turn 
out  a  readable  story  upon  the  insertion  of  the 
proper  ingredients,  but  needing  for  its  best 
effects  the  masterful  grip  of  a  Jack  London  or 
a  Rex  Beach.  Mr.  Stead  has  both  the  advan- 
tage and  the  disadvantage  of  knowing  his. 
Canadian  West  very  well  indeed  as  it  is  to-day. 
This  makes  it  easy  for  him  to  give  a  life-like 
and  sincere  picture  of  the  normal,  every-day, 
routine  events  which  make  up  most  of  the  life 
even  of  a  Westerner  at  this  advanced  date  in 
"Canada's  Century,*'  but  difficult  for  him  to 
daub  his  canvas  convincingly  with  the  very 
thick  and  juicy  "romantic"  colours  demanded 
by  the  patron  of  the  true  Wild  WTest  novel  and 
movie-show.  In  some  respects,  therefore,  "The 
Cow  Puncher,"  Mr.  Stead's  third  and  latest 
novel,  falls  between  two  stools.  It  is  both 
the  best  and  the  worst  thing  one  can  say 
about  it.  that  it  would  make  up  well  into  a 
moving-picture   scenario. 

Mr.  Stead's  recipe  as  employed  in  this  novel 
may  be  told  in  a  few  words.  First  catch  a 
ranch-hand,  young,  first-class  horseman,  inno- 
cent of  the  wiles  of  the  world,  and  endowed 
with  a  fine  vocabulary  of  Western  slang  and 
an  inability  to  comprehend  any  other  lan- 
guage. Then  bring  on  a  pretty  young  woman 
who  has  accident  in  car,  necessitating  her 
staying  at  the  ranch  to  tend  father  with 
broken  leg.  Mix  well  and  leave  to  simmer 
until  youthful  rancher  has  glimpses  of  the 
higher  life.  Hero  breaks  into  newspaper  re- 
porting, passes  thence  into  real  estate  in  the 
good  old  days  before  tax  sales  filled  whole 
pages  of  the  western  papers — and  makes  his 
pile.  Re-enter  pretty  girl  of  first  chapter  who, 
however,  gets  involved — oh,  quite  innocently 
— with  hero's  partner,  the  bad  man  of  the 
novel.  Hero  begins  to  find  out  that  real  es- 
tate millions  have  their  drawbacks  and  has 
qualms  of  conscience.  The  war  then  becomes  a 
factor,  and  brings  to  an  end  the  usual  current 
of  cross-purposes  between  hero  and  heroine 
which  is  necessary  for  the  novelist's  objects; 
for  the  war  performs  the  same  function  as  in 

John    Murray  Gibbon's  novel  of  bringing  the 
pair   t  >   a    better    understanding    of   our   an 
other's   higher  natures,   ami   the   hero   enlists, 

ROBERT   J.   C.   STEAD, 
Author   of   "The    Cow    Puncher." 

marries  the  heroine,  and  sends  her  hack  from 
England  to  grow  wheat  on  the  old  ranch  for 
the  Empire's  needs.  The  conclusion  is  well 
told,  but  it  is  too  good  and  too  sincere  a  con- 
elusion  to  seem  fitting  at  the  end  of  a  tale  in 
which  the  mechanical  appliances  of  the  liter- 
ary journeyman  of  melodrama — the  frequent 
gunplay,  the  unmitigated  villain,  the  deep  dark 
plot,  the  secret  war  between  the  "interests," 
the  frequent  accident  and  the  long  arm  of  co- 
incidence—have been  so  assiduously  em- 
ployed. It  is  a  conclusion  worthy  of  a  bigger 
conception — worthy  perhaps  of  the  bigger 
novel  which  Mr.  Stead  is  even  now  preparing 
to  write.  This  is  how  it  is  told,  and  it  is  a  good 
sample  of  the  style  of  our  Western  novelist- 
poet :  "And  so,  in  that  little  white-washed 
home,  where  the  brown  hills  rise  around  and 
the  placid  mountains  look  down  from  the  dis- 
tance, and  a  tongue  of  spruce  trees  beyond 
the_  stream  stands  sentinel  against  the  open 
prairie,  she  is  carrying  on.  not  in  despondency 
and  bitterness,  but  in  service  and  hope.  And 
so  her  sisters,  all  this  world  over,  must  carry 
on.  until  their  sweetness  and  their  sacrifice 
shall  fill  up  and  flood  over  all  the  valleys  of 
hate  .  .  .  And  if  von  should  chance  that 
way.  and  if  you  should  win  the  confidence  of 
young  Three-year-old.  he  may  stand  for  you 
and  say.  with  his  voice  filled  with  the  honor 
and  glory  and  the  pride  of  it.  'My  father  was 
a  soldier.  He  was  killed  at  Courcelette. ' " 
(Musson,  Toronto.  $1.50.) 


January.  1  !>10. 

The  Canadian  Annual  Review 

yX  one  particular  point  of  bookishness  Can- 
adians can  afford  to  h  ild  their  heads  high 
in  the  presence  of  almost  any  other  nation- 
als (useful  word,  that — one  of  the  few  really 
desirable  vocables  added  to  the  English  lan- 
guage, or  at  least  to  the  commonly  accepted 
part  of  the  English  language,  as  a  result  of 
the  wan.  We  have  an  annual  review  of  our 
own  Canadian  affairs,  which  is  notably  super- 
ior in  completeness,  selectiveness,  arrangement 
and  convenience  to  that  of  any  other  country. 
It  is  true  that  the  range  of  affairs  to  be  re- 
viewed is  narrower  in  Canada  than  in  such  a 
country  as  the  United  States  or  Great  Britain; 
but  nevertheless  it  is  no  inconsiderable 
achievement  to  bring  all  the  important  busi- 
ness even  of  Canada,  within  the  scope-of  a  050- 
page  v  lume  as  effectively  as  does  Mr.  Cas- 
tell  Hopkins  in  "The  Canadian  Annual  Re- 
view  (1917)",  just  issued  from  the  press  of 
the  Canadian  Annual  Review,  Limited  ($6). 
As  almost  all  Canadian  book-buyers  and  lib- 
rary-users are  familiar  with  the  scope  and  use- 
fulness of  this  publication  it  is  not  necessary 
to  enlarge  upon  it:  but  for  those  few  who  are 
not  thus  familiar  we  would  merely  say  that 
there  is  practically  nothing  which  has  been 
done  or  said,  in  any  way  affecting  Canada,  in 
tlie  twentieth  century,  which  is  not  to  be 
found  duly  recorded  in  the  seventeen  volumes 
of  this  unique  publication.  That  a  good  many 
of  the  things  thus  recorded,  especially  at  elec- 
tion times,  are  things  which  we  would  willing- 
ly let  perish,  does  not  affect  the  value  of  the 
book:  they  will  not  perish,  whatever  we  may 
wish    concerning    them,   and    when   by   the   ef- 

flux of  time  we  arrive  at  a  sufficient  dis- 
tance from  them  we  may  derive  profit  and 
edification  even  from  the  record  of  our  own 

Author  of   the   Canadian   Annual    Review. 

A  Door  That  Leads  Nowhere 

ALAN  Sullivan's  book,  "The  Inner  Door," 
is  not  a  good  book.  Only  the  fact  that 
Sullivan  is  a  Canadian,  lives  in  Toronto, 
and  has  told  a  number  of  good  Esquimaux 
stories  in  his  volume  "The  Passing  of  Ool-i- 
but,"  makes  it  even  necessary  to  say  so.  The 
upstanding  and  unpardonable  sin  of  this  last 
work  of  Sullivan's  is  its  insincerity.  The  au- 
thor has  no  real  sympathy  with  any  theme  in 
his  book  except  the  sex  theme.  That,  in  itself, 
might  pass  if  it  were  not  so  clear  that  the  pre- 
tentious pretended  •'study"  of  labor  prob- 
lems in  a  Canadian  factory  has  obviously  been 
dragged  in  to  offset  the  sex  theme  and  to  give 
the  book  the  appearance  of  having  an  intel- 
lectual appeal  which  it  hasn't.  Sullivan  tells 
a  low-life  Love  story,  passing  well.  His  pen 
warms  up  when  dealing  with  the  alarms  of 
waking  adolescence.  Even  at  that  it  goes  a  bit 
mad   and   traces   such    absurdities   in    this   new 

1 k  as  "His  throat  grew  stiff  and  parched. 

The  girl  was  terrifically  potent  and  from  her 
]i  ured  the  ever-amazing  appeal  of  her  child- 
bearing  sisterhood "  Ho-hum! 

But  if  this  author  would  stick  to  self-con- 
-  tious  love-makings  and  the  pathological 
symptoms  of  aboriginal  passion — his  heroe's 
minds  never  seem  illumined  in  these  exalted 
and  exhausting  periods — he  would  hold  at 
Least  one  audience.  Student  of  sociology  or 
economics  he  is  not.  In  attempting  such  things 
he  betrays  laziness  in  observation,  lack  of 
sympathy  or  real  insight  into  the  hearts  of  the 
struggling  poor — and  succeeds  only  in  making 
one   feel   that  he  is  faking  clumsily. 

Toronto  may  indeed  be  dull,  but  not  so  pow- 
erful a  soporific  as  Mr.  Sullivan  dispenses 
when  he  attempts  to  describe  any  phase  of  its 
life.  "Ool-i-but"  was  not  so  very  bad.  The 
plots  were  good  to  begin  with.  But  "The  In- 
ner Door"  is  distressing.  (Gundy,  Toronto, 

January,  1919. 

CANADIAh    BOOK  U  I  \ 


Canada's  First  Publishing  House 

By  E.  J.  MOORE 

WHEN   Egerton    Ryerson,  al   a   Methodisl 
Conference    in    Ancaster,    Wentworth 

County,   Ontario,    in    L829,    persuaded 

a  number  of  his  brother  preachers  thai 

a  denominational  newspaper  was  advisable  and 

induced    them    to   subscribe    for   stock    in    the 

new  institution  at  $20  each,  he  and  they 
surely  had  little  idea  that  less  than  a  centurj 
afterward  the  publishing  business  then  in- 
augurated would  grow  to  have  a   turnover  of 

approximately    a    million    dollars    a    year,    and 

would  he  housed  in  one  of  the  finest  and  largest 

publishing   h  o  m  e  s 

on     the     continent. 

And     yet,     this     is 

identically      w  h  a  t 

has  occurred. 

With  the  money 
subscribed  by  his 
brethren  and  him- 
self, R\  erson  rod1 
to  New  York  on 
horseback  shortly 
afterward,  p  u  r  - 
chased  type  and 
presses,  and  on 
November  21  of  the 
same  year  the  first 
number  of  The 
Christian  Guardian 
was  issued.  This 
was  the  direct  be- 
ginning of  Canada  's 
pioneer  publishing 
house.  It  apparent- 
ly became  early  evi- 
dent that  the  insti- 
tution was  to  fill  a 
large  place.  A  reso- 
lution of  the  Con- 
ference the  follow- 
ing year  provided 
for  the  change  in 
The  Christian 
Guardian  fro  m 
quarto  to  folio  form, 
"making  it  the  larg- 
est paper  published  in  the  province  except  the 
Kingston  Chronicle."  The  expenses  were  an- 
nounced as  being  over  $60  a  week !  We  are 
not  told  whether  this  included  the  editor's 
salary,  but  the  encouraging  statement  was  made 
that  if  the  amounts  due — over  $2,000 — were  paid 
up,  all  claims  would  be  met. 

The  book-selling  and  book-publishing  depart- 
ments of  the  business  came  along  naturally  in 
the  ordinary  course  of  events,  with  the  develop- 
ment of  business  in  the  province.  It  was  found, 
for  instance,  that  The  Guardian  office  was  a 

The    Venerakle 

convenient  place  m  which  the  preachers  and 
members  of  the  Church  mighl  secure  what  hooks 
they  wished,  and  consequently  a  stock  of  Bibles, 

hymn  hooks,  and  a  limited  number  of  such  theo- 
logical  and  religious  volumes  as  were  then  likely 
to  he   in  demand,  was  provided. 

Apparently  the  amounts  <\\\r  were  paid  up. 
In  any  event  The  Guardian  prospered.  largely, 
perhaps,  owing  to  the  fact  that  its  editor,  Ryer- 
son, believed  it  his  duty  to  devote  a  good  deal 
of  time  and  space  to  the  reporting  of  political 
news.     Through   this,  the  journal   soon   became 

one  of  the  influ- 
ential organs  of  the 

Prosperity  along 
financial  lines  was 
apparently  also  in 
evidence,    for  before 

the  passing  of  many 

years,  the  accrued 
profitsvof  the  busi- 
ness made  possible 
the  repayment  of 
amounts  originally 
subscribed  by  the 
p  r  e  a  c  h  e  r  s,  and 
around  this  hinges 
a  notable  fact, 
namely,  that  Can- 
ada's largest  pub- 
lishing house  has 
actually  no  capital 
stock!  As  then,  the 
same  policy  has 
been  followed  since. 
Accrued  profits 
have  been  put  into 
the  business  from 
war  to  year,  and 
this  has  led,  as  noted 
above,  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  one  of 
the  finest  manufac- 
turing and  publish- 
ing plants  in  Am- 
15  erica. 
As  time  went  on,  the  scope  of  the  House  was 
naturally  enlarged.  It  became  evident,  after  a 
little  time,  that  it  was  a  poor  policy  to  allow 
machinery  which  was  used  for  the  printing  of 
The  Guardian  and  other  periodicals  which  were 
subsequently  established  to  stand  idle.  Conse- 
quently, the  directors  of  the  business  began  to 
do  commercial  work  as  printers  and  manufac- 
turers. With  the  concurrence  of  the  church, 
this  policy  has  been  maintained  until  now  the 
printing  plant,  comprising  some  twenty  lino- 
type machines  and  some  twenty-four  evlinder 

Book    Steward. 



January,  1919. 

presses,  is  kept  occupied  turning  out  the  twenty- 
three  periodicals  and  the  numerous  books  issued 
by  the  house,  as  well  as  the  work  of  other  church 
departments,  and  in  the  way  suggested  above, 
as  commercial  printers. 

When  the  demand  for  out-and-out  Canadian 
books  began  to  materialize,  it  was  very  natural 
that  the  Methodist  Book  and  Publishing  House, 
with  the  requisite  plant  and  equipment,  should 
be  interested.  Various  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  cheap  importations,  high-priced  paper  and 
other  conditions,  which  still,  by  the  way,  largely 
prevail,  made  the  situation  a  somewhat  trouble- 
some one  to  face.  However,  the  House  has  al- 
ways had  a  most  strong  interest  in  matters  Can- 
adian, and  at  that  time,  as  ever  since,  all  pos- 
sible encouragement  was  given  to  Canadian 
authors  and  Canadian  books.  Along  in  the 
eighties,  this  matter  of  book  publication  had 
grown  to  the  extent  of  warranting  a  special 
department,  and  E.  S.  Caswell,  now  secretary 
of  the  Public  Library  Board  in  Toronto,  was 
brought  from  his  position  in  the  shipping  de- 
partment, and  given  charge  of  this  work. 

Our  early  Canadiana  owes  a  good  deal  to  the 
encouragement  of  the  House,  which  to  a  large 
extent  believed  in  producing  Canadian  books, 
even  if  at  times,  the  probability  for  large  com- 
mercial returns  did  not  seem  to  be  bright.  A 
page  might  be  taken  in  listing  books  such,  for 
instance,  as  Mrs.  Traill's  "Pearls  and  Pebbles," 
' '  Studies  in  Plant  Life, "  "  Canadian  Wild  Flow- 
ers," Campbell's  "Dread  Voyage,"  and  others 
of  the  type  which  now  stand  as  classics  in  our 


The    Methodist    Book    and    Publishing 
Queen    and    John    streets,    To 

libraries.  Naturally,  a  good  many  of  the  books 
issued  in  those  days,  as'  since,  were  volumes  o± 
local  history  and  biography,  and  in  these  we 
have  presented  to  us  the  foundations  not  only 
of  Canadian  history,  but  of  our  succeeding  arts 
and  letters. 

Later  still,  as  the  book-selling  end  of  the 
business  continued  to  develop,  a  separate  de- 
part ment  was  established  to  look  after  the  sales 
to  the  retail  booksellers,  and  the  institution  thus 
became  one  of  the  earliest  wholesale  or  jobbing 
houses  in  Canada.  Naturally,  it  was  not  pos- 
sible to  carry  this  on  solely  with  local  produc- 
tions, and  in  consequence  importations  from 
Great  Britain  and  the  United  States  were  also 

When  one  gets  this  far  in  outlining  the  activi- 
ties of  the  business,  the  query  usually  arises 
as  to  what  becomes  of  the  profits  of  an  insti- 
tution conducted  on  such  an  unusual  basis,  and 
thereby  hangs  an  interesting  story.  The  Meth- 
odist Book  and  Publishing  House,  of  course,  is 
the  property  of  the  Methodist  Church.  Just  r.o 
what  branch  of  the  Church  it  belongs,  or  in 
v.  hat  way  it  is  owned,  is  somewhat  of  a  moot 
question,  and  one  for  which  the  answer  has 
ni  ver  definitely  been  called.  However,  soon 
after  the  institution  got  on  its  feet  financially, 
a  proportionate  amount  was  set  aside  from  the 
profits  every  year  to  a  fund  which  is  used  for 
the  support  of  the  worn-out  Methodist  preach- 
ers, their  wives  and  children.  No  individual 
has  ever  received  a  penny  directly  from  the 
profits  of  the  business,  and  what  profits  have 

been  made  have  been 
regularly  and  con- 
tinuously divided  as 
already  suggested, 
one  portion  going  to 
the  upbuilding  and 
maintenance  of  the 
business,  and  the 
other  to  this  "Super- 
annuation Fund,"  as 
it  is  called,  for  the 
aid  of  the  Methodist 

Another  question 
w  h  i  c  h  frequently 
crops  up  is,  "How  is 
the  business  conduct- 
ed? Who  is  respons- 
ible for  it?" 

While  the  business 
is  practically  run  as 
any  other,  by  a  board 
of  directors  and  a 
manager,  these  of- 
ficials are  not  bv  any 
means  denoted  *"■ 
such  in  the  anna's 
of  the  institution.  At 
the  General  Confer- 
ence of  tlie  Methodist 
Church,  which  meets 
House,    corner  quadrcnuiallv.       t  h  P 

ronto.  board      of      directors 

January,  1919. 

C  I  Y.m/.I.Y    BOOK  l/. I  \ 


or  a  "Book  Committee"  which  is  responsible  for 
the  management  of  the  institution  Eor  the  suc- 
ceeding Eour  years,  is  elected.  At  the  same  time 
a  "Book  Steward,"  really  the  managing  direc- 
tor, is  elected,  who  is  more  directly  responsible. 
The  Book  Committee  meets  annually,  with  a 
semi-annual  executive  session,  supervising  the 
policy  of  the  Book  steward,  as  dues  any  other 
similar  body   in  other  business, 

Quite  as  familiarly  known,  perhaps  even  more 
so,  than  the  name  "Methodist  Book  and  Pub- 
lishing House."  is  the  name  "BriggS."  Thirty- 
six  years  ago,  the  Rev.  William  BriggS,  who  had 

made  a  name  for  himself  in  pastorates  in  the 
most  important  churches  in  Canada,  was  elected 
Book  Steward.  And  so  practically  have  his 
efforts  and  his  policies  in  conducting  the  busi- 
ness appealed  to  his  brother  preachers  and  the 
members  of  the  church  generally,  that  he  is  still 
in  office,  although  his  resignation,  to  take  effect 
next  summer,  has  been  handed  in  to  the  Annual 
Conference,  and  was  regretfully  accepted. 
Under  Dr.  Briggs,  the  business  has  developed 
into  the  large  place 
in  Canadian  business 
affairs  it  now  oc- 
cupies, and  largely 
under  his  guidance, 
the  publication  side 
of  the  business  as 
devoted  to  books  has 
been  developed.  It 
may  safely  be  said 
that  it  was  largely 
through  Dr.  Briggs' 
interest  in  thing;: 
Canadian  that  many 
of  the  Canadian 
classics  referred  to 
above  were  published, 
and  had  he  not  as- 
sumed this  interest, 
it  is  altogether  prob- 

>-■■'-   I   ■■  ■ 

-frlZR,    ^C^fit£^j    u*jfi-' 

able    that    dozens    of 

such  volumes  would  never  have  seen  the  light. 

The  combination  of  preacher  and  business 
man  is  said  by  many  to  be  somewhat  anomalous, 
but  from  foundations  which  were  well  and  truly 
laid  in  his  boyhood  days  in  a  business  house 
in  England,  the  present  Book  Steward  has  de- 
veloped an  executive  ability  which  has  placed 
him  on  a  par  with  the  heads  of  the  largest  busi- 
ness institutions  of  the  Dominion.  A  fact  which 
should  be  interesting  to  readers  of  the  Canadian 
Bookman  is  that  Dr.  Briggs  still  maintains 
his  strong  interest  in  publication  matters,  so 
much  so  that  he  very  closely  supervises,  and 
quite  occasionally  writes  himself,  letters  to 
authors  regarding  prospective  books.  Dr.  Briggs 
believes  primarily  in  close  attention  to  detail 
business  and  in  providing  the  very  best  of  ser- 
vice to  customers.  One  of  the  interesting  fea- 
tures in  the  daily  procedure  of  the  Institution 
is  what  has  been  familiarly  dubbed  "Parade." 
To  explain  this  point  it  must  be  known  that  the 
head  of  the  House  himself  goes  over  everything 
but  the  detail  matters  of  the  morning  mail,  and 

Facsimile  of  a  letter  which   provided  for  the  found- 
ing    of    the     Methodist     Book    and     Publishing 

the  remainder  is  then  distributed  to  the  lead    of 

the   depart  incuts,   at    this   brief    morning   gather 

ing  in   his  office.      If  any has  been   remiss  in 

his   duties,   or    it    appears    that    an    in  ju    I  ICl 

been  done  anj  customer,  the  opportunity  is 
taken  of  impressing  the  situation  quite  strongly 
at  the  time.    Another  remarkable  tact,  perhap 

is  that  \)\\  BriggS  is  at  his  desk  almost  w  it  limit 
except  inn  mi  every  working  day  of  the  year. 
For  a  man  of  his  years,  his  health  is  exceed  in- 
good,  and  it  is  very  infrequently  that  lie  cannot 
he  found  at  his  own  office  on  the  third  floor 
of  the  building  at  Queen  and  John  streets.  Tor- 
onto, ready  t>>  look  after  any  matter  of  policy, 
or  to  nice)  any  members  of  the  church.  Most 
heads  of  businesses  of  this  size  are  somewhat 
closely  protected  in  their  offices.  Dr.  BriggS  is 
democratic  in  seeing  almost  anyone  who  wants 
to  approach  him.  It  js  not  an  unusual  sight 
to  see  the  chair  at  his  right,  which  has  just  been 
vacated  by  the  General  Superintendent  of  the 
Church,  or  by  some  high  dignitary  of  some  other 
denomination,   occupied   by  a   girl    in   her  teens 

from  the  instit  ution  's 
bindery.  The  same 
spirit  of  democracy 
is  carried  largely 
through  the  plant 
I  tee  of  the  socie.l  fea- 
tures of  the  institu- 
tion is  the  cafeteria, 
where  the  four  or  five 
hundred  employees 
are  served  with  noon- 
day luncheon  at  cost. 
In  similar  places  in 
most  businesses,  a 
separate  room  is  set 
aside  for  the  heads  of 
the  departments  and 
the  president.  Not  so 
here.  Almost  any 
day.  the  Book  Stew- 
ard may  be  seen  in 
the  Book  Room's  cafeteria  eating  his  luncheon 
while  in  conversation  with  an  office  boy,  or 
with  the  driver  of  one  of  the  firm's  delivery 

Those  who  know  Dr.  Briggs  and  the  success 
which  has  attended  his  efforts  in  the  institu- 
tion, attribute  a  good  deal  of  this  latter  to  his 
ability  for  picking  men.  and  with  this  goes  a 
belief  in  promotion.  An  instance  was  given 
where  a  subordinate  was  brought  down  to  take 
the  head  of  a  newly-established  department.  The 
same  policy  has  been  followed  throughout  the 
institution  until  now,  witli  perhaps  one  or  tw- 
exceptions,  the  several  departments  are  directed 
by  managers  who  came  in  as  boys,  who  have 
grown  up  with  it,  and  have  made  their  places 
as  they  came  along.  When,  for  any  reason,  a 
vacancy  occurs,  the  first  thought  in  the  Book 
Steward's  mind  is  the  possibility  of  filling  the 
place  by  the  promotion  of  someone  who  has 
been  filling  a  less  important  position  previously, 
and  in  most  cases  it  must  be  said  that  his 
judgment   is  exceedingly  good. 


CAN  A  1)1  .L\   BOO  KM  AS 

January,  1919. 

Rather  a  notable  feature  in  Canadian  Pub- 
lication circles  was  the  completion  and  the  plac- 
ing on  the  market  last  October,  of  the  "New 
Methodist  Hymn  Book,"  a  compilation  which 
has  since  taken  a  very  large  place  in  the  wor- 
ship of  the  denomination  in  Canada.  This,  it 
should  be  noted,  was  the  first  Hymn  Book  of 
any  denomination  for  which  the  type  was  set, 
and  the  actual  printing  and  binding  done  in  toto, 
in  Canada.  The  books  of  the  other  denomina- 
tions have  been  printed  in  England,  and  im- 
ported, the  "publication"  in  such  cases  being 

distribution  and  sale  only. 

What  the  future  may  bring  for  Canada's 
pioneer  publishing  house  is  something  that  can- 
not well  be  even  imagined  now.  With  the 
post-war  growth  of  business  and  population  in 
the  Dominion,  there  is  no  doubt  but  that  a  con- 
sequent growth  in  the  institution  will  follow.  It 
seems  probable  that  within  the  next  few  years 
material  additions  may  he  necessary  to  tlie  al- 
ready vast  h  ime  depicted  in  the  accompanying 

Books  on  Metallurgy  :   "  De  Re  Metallica 


METALLURGY  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  the 
arts;  a  knowledge  of  its  mysteries  was 
highly  prized  in  olden  days,  and  its 
practice  has  been  shrouded  in  secrecy  even  in 
modern  times.  The  manager  of  many  a  metal- 
lurgical works  would  refuse  admittance  to 
visitors  for  fear  of  disclosing  some  secret  on 
which  the  technical  and  financial  success  of 
the  industry  was  supposed  to  depend.  Under 
these  conditions  metallurgical  literature  was 
limited,  although  important  works  were  writ- 
ten and  advances  were  slow.  In  recent  years 
a  mure  liberal  spirit  has  been  observed;  nowa- 
days, it  is  generally  recognized  that  a  plant 
from  which  visitors  are  excluded  is  probably 
behind  the  times,  and  as  a  result  of  the  freer 
exchange  of  knowledge  and  ideas  the  art  and 
science  of  metallurgy  are  making  rapid  pro- 

Under  these  conditions  metallurgical  litera- 
ture is  world-wide  in  scope  and  distribution. 
Processes  that  are  limited  in  use  to  a  par- 
ticular country  or  district  are  becoming  fewer 
and  of  less  importance,  and  metallurgists  in 
any  country  can  keep  in  touch  with  the  ad- 
vances in  the  science  and  practice  of  their 
art  in  all  parts  of  the  habitable  world.  It  will 
be  clear,  then,  that  there  is  scarcely  such  a 
thing  as  English  metallurgy,  Scotch  metallur- 
gy, Canadian  metallurgy;  although  we  some- 
time, speak  of  American  metallurgy,  having 
in  mind  the  fact  that  on  this  continent  smelt- 
ing methods  have  been  undertaken  on  a  larger 
scale  and  with  a  freedom  from  precedent  that 
was  unknown  in  the  past  in  European  coun- 
tries. Hooks  on  metallurgy,  when  written  in 
English,  are  usually  published  in  London  or 
Xew  York,  and  authors  who  may  happen  to 
be  located  in  Canada  have  their  works  pub- 
lished in  one  of  these  places.  Technical  books 
of  this  kind  involve  much  work  in  writing  and 
considerable  expense  in  printing  and  publish- 
ing, the  reading  public  in  Canada  is  small, 
and.  in  consequence,  Canadian  publishers  are 
unable  to  handle  such  hooks.  A  work  of  any 
importance,  on  a  subject  of  such  wide-spread 
interest,  must  be  brought  out  by  publishers 
having  world-wide  affiliations,  and  the  only 
limiting   circumstance   is  the  survival  of  dif- 

ferent languages,  which  still  makes  it  neces- 
sary to  translate  English  books  into  French, 
Spanish,  German  and  other  languages,  while 
metallurgical  works  in  those  tongues  are 
translated  into  English.  We  may  almost  re- 
gret  the  medieval  custom  of  writing  in  Latin 
so     that  all  scholars  would  understand. 

Although  it  will  he  impossible  to  observe  a 
chronological  order  in  dealing  with  works  on 
metallurgy,  it  seems  fitting  to  place  in  this 
introductory  article  a  notice  of  the  first  book 
of  any  importance  dealing  wth  the  subject  of 
metallurgy.  "De  Re  Metallica'* — written  in 
Latin  by  (ieorgius  Agricola  early  in  the  six- 
teenth century  and  published  in  1556 — has  at 
last  been  worthily  translated  into  English  by 
Herbert  Clark  Hoover  and  Lou  Henry  Hoover, 
and  was  published  in  a  de  luxe  edition  in  1912. 
The  noble  part  which  Mr.  Hoover  has  played 
in  the  present  war  adds  interest  to  the  labour 
of  love  which  occupied  him  and  his  wife  for 
about    five  years. 

Ge  mius  Agricola  (Georg  Bauer)  was  born 
at  Glauchau  in  Saxony  in  1494,  about  the  be- 
ginning of  the  revival  of  learning,  and  his 
writings,  although  to  us  they  seem  archaic 
and  somewhat  obscure,  mark  a  great  ad- 
vance when  compared  with  contempor- 
ary writings  on  the  subject.  One  of  the 
features  of  ""De  Re  Metallica"  is  the  large 
number  of  wood-cuts,  which  have  been  repro- 
duced, faithfully,  in  the  translation.  The  fol- 
lowing extracts  will  indicate  the  character  of 
the  work,  which  covers  the  subject  of  mining, 
ore-dressing,  assaying,  smelting  and  refining 
of  metals  as  known  at  that  time. 

The  preface  is  addressed : 

To  the  most  illustrious  ami  most  mighty  dukes  of 
Saxony,  Landgraves  of  Thuringia,  Margraves  of  Meis- 
sen, [imperial  Overlords  "t  Saxony,  Burgraves  of  AI 
tenberg  and  Magdeburg,  Counts  of  Brena,  Lords  of 
Pleissnerland,  To  Maurice,  Grand  Marshall  and  Elector 
of  the  Holy  Koman  Empire  and  to  his  brother  Au- 

In    it    he   states: 

Without    doubt,    none    of    the    arts    is    older    than 
agriculture,   but   that    of    the    metals    is    not    less    an- 
cient;   in    fact   they    are    at    least    equal    and    coeval,  - 
for  no  mortal  man  ever  tilled  a  field  without   imple- 

January,  L919. 


incuts.  In  truth,  in  all  the  works  of  agriculture,  at 
"i  the  other  arts,  implements  are  uaoil  which  are 
wade  from  metals,  or  which  could  not  be  made  with 
out  the  use  ..I   metals;  for  this  reason  the  tnetali    are 

ni   the  greatest   necessity    to  man. 

With  reference  to  the  alchemists  he  writes: 

These  masters  teach  their  disciples  thai  the  base 
metals,  when  smelted,  are  broken  up;  also  thej  teach 
the  methods  by  which  they  reduce  them  to  the  prim 
ary  parts  and  remove  whatever  is  superfluous  in 
them,    and    by   supplying    what    is    wanted    make    oul 

of  them  tin'  precious  metals  that  is,  gold  and  silver 
—  all  of  which  they  .airy  out  ill  a  crucible.  Whe- 
ther they  can  ilo  these  things  or  not  I  cannot  dei  idej 
but,  seeing  that  so  many  writers  assure  us  with  all 
earnestness  that  the)  have  reached  that  goal  for 
which   they   aimed,   it    would    seem    that   faith    might 

lie    placed    in    them;    yet     also    seeinK    that    we    ilo    not 

read  of  any  of  them  ever  having  become  rich  by 
this  art,     ....  I  shouhl  say  the  matter  is  dubious. 

Iii  Book  I  he  writes: 

.Many  persons  hold  the  opinion  that  the  metal  in- 
dustries are  fortuitous  and  that  the  occupation  is  one 
of  sordid  toil,  and  altogether  a  kind  of  business  re- 
quiring not  so  much  skill  as  labour.  But  as  for  my- 
self, when  I  reflect  carefully  upon  its  special  points 
one   by  one,  it   appears  to   be  far  otherwise  ' 

He  also  argues  against  the  prevailing  belief 
that  it  is  wicked  to  have  or  obtain  metals: 

In  the  first  place  then,  those  who  speak  ill  of  the 
metals  and  refuse  to  make  use  of  them,  do  not  see 
that  they  accuse  and  condemn  as  wicked  the  Creator 
Himself,  when  they  assert  that  He  fashioned  some 
things  vainly  and  without  good  cause,  and  thus  they 
regard  Him  as  the  Author  of  evils,  which  opinion  is 
certainly  not  worthy  of  pious  and  sensible  men.  In 
the  next  place,  the  earth  does  not  conceal  metals  in 
her  depths  because  she  does  not  wish  that  men 
should  dig  them  out,  but  because  provident  and  sa- 
gacious Nature  has  appointed  for  each  thing  its 
place. ' ' 

With  respect  to  the  divining  rod  he  writes: 

There  are  many  great  contentions  between  miners 
concerning  the  forked  twig,  for  some  say  that  it  is 
of  the  greatest  use  in  discovering  veins,  and  others 
deny  it.  Some  of  those  who  manipulate  ami  use  the 
twig,  first  cut  a  fork  from  a  hazel  bush  with  a  knife, 
for  this  bush  they  consider  more  efficacious  than  any 
other  for  revealing  the  veins,  especialy  if  the  hazel 
bush  grows  above  a  vein.  .  .  .Since  this  matter  re- 
mains in  dispute  and  causes  much  disseution  amongst 
miners,  I   consider  it  ought  to  be  examined   in  its  own 

merits The    Ancients,    by    means    of    the 

divining  rod,  not  only  procured  those  things  neces- 
sary for  a  livelihood  or  for  luxury,  but  they  were 
also  able  to  alter  the  forms  of  things  by  it;  as  when 
the  magicians  changed  the  rods  of  the  Egyptians  into 
serpents,  as  the  writings  of  the  Hebrews  relate;  and 
as  in  Homer,  Minerva  with  a  divining  rod  turned  the 
aged  Ulysses  suddenly  into  a  youth,  and  then  re- 
stored him  back  again  to  old  age.  .  .  .  Therefore 
it  seems  that  the  divining  rod  passed  to  the  mines 
from  its  impure  origin  with  the  magicians.  Then 
when  good  men  shrank  with  horror  from  the  incan- 
tations and  rejected  them,  the*  twig  was  retained  by 
the  unsophisticated  common  miners,  and  in  search- 
ing for  new  veins  some  traces  of  these  ancient 
usages  remain. 

Although  doubtful  about  the  divining  rod, 
Agricola  believed  in  subterranean  demons: 

In  some  of  our  mines,  however,  though  in  very  few, 
there  are  other  pernicious  pests.  These  are  demons 
of  ferocious  aspect,  about  which  I  have  spoken  in 
my  book  "De  Animantibus  Subterraneis. '  *  Demons 
of  this  kind  are  expelled  and  put  to  flight  by  prayer 
and  fasting.  Some  of  these  evils,  as  well  as  certain 
other    things,    are    the    reason    why    pits    are    occasion- 

abandoned.     But  th.    fii   i    a, .. i   principal  i  -. 

that  they  .i..  not  j  i. -id  metal, 

His  instructions  to  aasayera  read  correctly 

at  tin-  present  time: 


It  ,s  necessary  that  ti„.  assayer  who  .,  testing  ore  or 
metals  should  be  prepared  ai  ,  :iii  tl,iuKs 

aecessa r.v  ...  assaying,  and  thai  be  should  close  the 
doors  oi  the  room  ,„  which  the 

,|,M"1,  ,lMS    ' '«««    <  intenl    on    the 

ror  him  to  place  his    bal- 

■'"■;■-   ",   a   case,   so   that    when   b  the   little 

buttons  ol    metal  the  scales  maj  ,.,,  b.. 

a   draught   of   air.  J 

1  may  add  in  full  his  instructions  for  assay- 
ing an  ore  of  gold,  to  show  how  closely  they 
resemble  our  modern  methods: 

Mix  one  part  of  this  ore,  when  it  has  been  roasted 
crushed  and  washed,  with  three  parts  of  some  pow- 
der compound  which  melts  ore,  and  sii  parts  of  lead 
1  i ut  the  charge  into  the  triangular  crucible,  place  it  in 
the  iron  hoop  to  which  the  double  bellows  reaches 
and  heat  t.rst  in  a  slow  fire,  and  afterward  gradu- 
ally ,,,  a  fiercer  fire,  till  it  melts  and  flows  like 
water,  it  the  ore  does  not  melt,  add  to  it  a  little 
more  ot  these  fluxes,  mixed  with  an  equal  portion  of 
yellow  litharge,  and  stir  it  with  a  hot  iron  rod  until 
it  all  melts.  Then  take  the  crucible  out  of  the  hoop, 
shake  oft  the  button  when  it  has  cooled,  and  when  it 
has  been  cleansed,  melt  first  in  the  scorifier  and  af- 
terward in  the  cupel.  Finally,  rub  the  gold  which 
has  settled  in  the  bottom  of  the  cupel,  after  it  has 
been  taken  out  and  cooled,  on  the  touchstone,  in  order 
to    find   out    what   proportion    of   silver    it   contains. 

Book  IX.  on  the  smelting  of  ores  begins  as 

follows  :— 

Since  I  have  written  on  the  varied  work  of  pre- 
paring the  ores,  I  will  now  write  of  the  various 
methods  of  smelting  them.  Although  those  who  burn 
roast  and  calcine  the  ore,  take  from  it  something 
which  is  mixed  or  combined  with  the  metals;  and 
those  who  crush  it  with  stamps  take  away  much;  and 
those  who  wash,  screen  and  sort  it,  take  away  still 
more;  yet  they  cannot  remove  all  which  conceals 
the  metal  from  the  eye  and  renders  it  crude  and  un- 
formed. Wherefore  smelting  is  necessary,  for  bv 
this  means  earths,  solidified  juices,  and  stones  are 
separated  from  the  metals  so  that  they  obtain  their 
proper  colour  and  become  pure,  and  mav  be  of  great 
use  to  mankind  in  many  ways.  When  the  ore  is 
smelted,  those  things  which  were  mixed  with  the 
metal  before  it  was  melted  are  driven  forth,  because 
the  metal  is  perfected  by  fire  in  this  manner.' 

The  following  is  a  description  of  the  smelt- 
ing of  a  complex  ore  containing  gold,  silver, 
copper  and   lead: 

After  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when  the  lead  which 
the  assistant  has  placed  in  the  forehearth  is  melted, 
the  master  opens  the  tap-hole  of  the  furnace  with  a 
tapping  bar.  .  .  .  The  slag  first  flows  from  the 
furnace  into  the  forehearth,  and  in  it  are  stones 
mixed  with  metal  or  with  the  metal  adhering  to  them 
partly  altered,  the  slag  also  containing  earth  and 
solidified  juices.  After  this  the  material  from  the 
melted  pyrites  flows  out,  and  then  the  molten  lead 
contained  in  the  forehearth  absorbs  the  gold  and  sil- 
ver. When  that  which  has  run  out  has  stood  for 
some  time  in  the  forehearth,  in  order  to  be  able  to 
separate  one  from  the  other,  the  master  first  either 
skims  off  the  slags  with  the  hooked  bar  or  else  lifts 
them  off  with  an  iron  fork;  the  slags,  as  they  are 
very  light,  float  on  the  top.  He  next  draws  off  the 
cakes  of  melted  pyrites,  which  as  they  are  of  med- 
ium weight  hold  the  middle  place;  he  leaves  in  the 
forehearth  the  alloy  of  gold  or  silver  with  the  lead, 
for  these  being  the  heaviest,  sink  to  the  bottom. 



January,  1919. 

With  regard  to  iron  smelting  the  author 
writes: — 

Very  good  iron  ore  is  smelted  in  a  furnace  almost 
like  the  cupellation  furnace.  The  hearth  is  three  and 
a  half  feet  high,  and  five  feet  long  and  wide;  in  the 
centre  of  it  is  a  crucible  a  foot  deep  and  one  and  a 
half  feet  wide,  but  it  may  be  deeper  or  shallower, 
wider  or  narrower,  according  to  whether  more  or  less 
ore  is  to  be  made  into  iron.  A  certain  quantity  of  iron 
ore  is  given  to  the  master,  out  of  which  he  may 
smelt  either  much  or  little  iron.  He  being  about  to 
expend  his  skil  and  labour  on  this  matter,  first 
throws  charcoal  into  the  crucible,  and  sprinkles  over 
it  an  iron  shovel-ful  of  crushed  iron  ore  mixed  with 
unslaked  lime.  Then  he  repeatedly  throws  on  char- 
coal and  sprinkles  it  with  ore,  and  continues  this  un- 
til he  has  slowly  built  up  a  heap;  it  melts  when  the 
charcoal  has  been  kindled  and  the  fire  violently 
stimulated    by    the    blast    of    the    bellows,    which    are 

skilfully  fixed  in  a  pipe.  He  is  able  to  complete  this 
work  sometimes  in  eight  hours,  sometimes  in  ten,  and 
again  sometimes  in  twelve.  In  order  that  the  heat 
of  the  fire  should  not  burn  his  face,  he  covers  it  en- 
tirely with  a  cap,  in  which,  however,  there  are  holes 
through  which  he  may  see  and  breathe. 

This  work,  as  translated  by  Hoover,  con- 
tains in  addition  to  the  translation,  an  enor- 
mous number  of  explanatory  foot  notes  by 
the  translator;  it  contains  more  than  600 
pages,  9  inches  by  13  inches,  and  is  bound  in 
vellum.  It  was  published  for  the  Translators 
by  the  Mining  Magazine,  London. 

Alfred  Stansfield. 

MeGill  University, 
November,  1918. 

Labour  and  Capital  After  the  War 


PEACE  is  with  us  once  again,  the  world,  we 
are  told,  has  been  made  safe  for  Democ- 
racy .  .  .  and,  is  any  one  going  to 
add,  Industrial  Autocracy?  It  is  not  uncom- 
mon to  hear  these  days  some  little  god  in  the 
kingdom  of  Industrial  Autocracy  decrying 
against  the  Bolshevik  element  in  Canada,  and 
this  book  has  only  strengthened  my  desire  to 
say  each  time:  "Look  and  see  whether  the 
conditions  which  produced  the  Bolshevik  ele- 
ment in  Russia  have  any  counterpart  in  Can- 
ada." Professor  S.  J.  Chapman's  symposium 
on  "Labour  and  Capital  after  the  War" 
(was  there  any  significance  in  his  reversion 
of  the  order  in  which  we  usually  see  these  two 
associated  in  the  daily  press?)  includes 
amongst  its  contributors  men  and  women 
whose  right  to  express  an  opinion  will  be  un- 
questioned, for  they  have  earned  it  by  close 
contact  with  the  problem  and  the  experience 
of  many  years. 

The  village  of  Port  Sunlight  on  the  banks 
of  the  Mersey  has  done  as  much  to  make  Wil- 
liam Lever  famous  as  has  the  soap  that  carries 
the  same  name.  Lord  Leverhulme,  as  he  is 
now,  would  probably  be  the  first  to  admit 
that  his  interest  in  the  welfare  of  his  em- 
ployes and  his  business  success  have  been  in 
the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  This  Com- 
mercial Baron  writes:  "Our  manufacturers 
have  been  progressive  in  the  adoption  of  ma- 
chinery, plant  and  mechanical  utilities,  but 
have  been  singularly  indifferent  to  the  human 
element  in  productive  enterprise, — the  human 
element  has  been  ignored  and  human  needs 
have  been  neglected";  and  later: 

It  is  merely  so  much  pompous  nonsense  to  talk  of 
reconciling  Capital  and  Labor.  The  days  for  "re- 
conciling" Capital  and  Labour  as  ordinarily  under- 
stood— if  every  such  days  existed,  which  I  doubt — 
have  vanished  in  the  smoke  of  war.  To-day's  pro- 
gramme must  go  much  deeper  than  mere  attempts  to 
prevent  strikes  and  disputes;  it  must  include  the 
placing  of  employer  and  employee  on  the  footing  of 
equal    opportunities,    and    of    sharing    the    profits     of 

trade  and  commerce  between  all  the  three  elements 
necessary  for  production,  viz.,  Capital,  Management  and 
Labour.  The  tool  user  must  become  joint  owner  of 
the  tools  he  wields.  .  .  .  Labour  demands,  and 
justly  demands,  the  best  conditions  of  living,  and  suf- 
ficient leisure;  not  for  loafing,  but  for  the  attainment 
of  a  higher  standard  of  education  and  refinement, 
combined  with   opportunity  for  healthful  recreation. 

When  an  Industrial  Baron  in  England,  which 
knows  what  war  is  as  we  do  not  in  Canada, 
speaks  in  this  strain,  then  the  industrial  mag- 
nates of  Canada  may  listen  with  more  pa- 
tience to  Mr.  R.  H.  Tawney,  the  wounded 
Soldier  Scholar,  the  Student  of  Humanity, 
who  has  seen  the  Whitechapel  laborer  from 
the  intimate  perspective  of  a  resident  of  Toyn- 
bee  Hall  and  also  as  a  fellow  Tommy  in  the 

To  single  out  any  one  of  a  dozen  passages 
in  Mr.  Tawney 's  all  too  short  thirty-five  pages 
seems  invidious,  but  the  kernel  of  the  truth 
seems  to  be  expressed  in  these  words  in  which 
he  sums  up  his  plans  for  social  reconstruc- 

The  details  of  the  transformation  may  be  complex, 
but  the  principle  is  simple.  It  is  that  instead  of  the 
workers  being  used  by  the  owners  of  capital  with 
the  object  of  producing  profits  for  its  owners,  capi- 
tal should  be  used  by  the  workers  with  the  object  of 
producing  services   for   the   community. 

His  closing  paragraph  is  this: 

It  is  possible  that  the  pathetic  instinct  to  demand 
payment  for  privileges,  as  though  it  were  a  kind  of 
service,  will  re-emerge  jaunty  and  un-repentant  out 
of  the  sea  of  blood  and  tears  in  which  it  has  been 
temporarily  submerged,  and  that  in  a  world  where 
not  a  few  have  given  all,  there  may  still  be  classes 
and  individuals  whose  ideal  is  not  to  give  but  to  take. 
Such  claims,  if  they  are  made,  may  be  regarded  with 
pity,  but  without  apprehension.  Men  who  have  en- 
dured the  rigour  of  war  in  order  to  make  the  world 
safe  for  democracy,  will  find  ways  of  overcoming 
the  social  forces  and  institutions  which  threaten  that 
cause   in   time   of  peace. 

Mr.  F.  Dudley  Docker  and  Sir  Hugh  Bell 
contributes  articles  which  are  of  especial  in- 

January,  1919. 

CANADIAN   I'.uo KM  I  \ 


teresl  to  employers,  while  Mr.  J.  R,  Clynes, 
M.P.,  and  others,  will  appeal  chiefly  to  the 
employee;  the  Bishop  of  Birmingham,  out  of 
courtesy,  I  suppose,  was  given  the  first  chap- 
ter, which  deals  with  "Social  and  Moral  Un- 
rest," but  when  he  talked  of  "the  immoral 
rest  (inactivity)  of  the  man  or  woman  living 
and  working  under  unsatisfactory  conditions 
who  makes  no  effort  to  better  them,  who,  as 
he  himself  says,  "has  had  her  mental  and 
physical  vitality  lowered  until  she  is  hardly  a 
sentient  being."  I  wondered  whether  he  would 
call  the  apathy  of  the  average  clergyman  to 
these  same  conditions  "immoral  rest"  or  "op- 
portune inactivity." 

A  summary   of  the   work    of  the  standing 

committee  on   Plans  and   Propaganda  of  the 

Canadian  National  R Detraction  groups  haa 

just  reached  me.  Ii  makes  frequent  refer- 
ence to  the  symposium  under  review,  which 
fact  will,  I  hope,  induce  many  Canadians  to 
read  it  ;  for  unless  we  have  learnt  our  lesson 
from  this  war.  we  shall  find  that  the  end  of 
one  war  is  but  the  prelude  to  another.  The 
workers  have  fought  in  France  and  Flanders 
for  freedom  for  us  all ;  must  they  return  to 
fight,  as  Mr.  Tawney  terms  it,  a  commercial 
Mnrhi  I'll/if ik,  which  is  the  social  counterpart 
of  the  temper  over  which  we  have  just  been 
victorious?  ("Labour  and  Capital  After  the 
War."  a  symposium  edited  by  Prof.  S.  J. 
Chapman.     Dent,   Toronto,  $2.) 

A  Lesson  for  Canadian  Cities 


AMERICAN  Cities:  Their  Methods  of 
Business,"  by  Arthur  Benson  Gilbert, 
M.A.,  is  a  strong  and  clear-headed  vol- 
ume on  city  economics  which  should  be  read 
by  all  thinking  business  men,  although  writ- 
ten by  an  ex-professor.  The  author  announces 
that  his  ideas  are  chiefly  due  to  the  influence 
of  the  celebrated  Tom  Johnson,  the  late  mayor 
of  Cleveland,  "the  first  man  in  the  United 
States  to  grasp  clearly  the  principles  by  which 
cities  must  be  promoted."  "The  Johnson  prin- 
ciples that  made  Cleveland  the  best  city  in 
his  time  in  the  United  States  must,"  he  says, 
"soon  receive  universal  recognition."  Ac- 
cording to  him  the  foundations  of  an  ideal 
city  will  be  found  in  long-sighted  scientific 
business  management,  after  wheh  will  follow 
the  artistic  and  cultural  excellences;  merely 
"honest"  government  fails  because  of  stupid- 
ity, and  ordinary  "business  man's  govern- 
ment" is  too  short-sighted  and  superficial. 
Competition  today  is  so  keen,  between  cities 
as  well  as  business  firms,  that  even  well  en- 
dowed and  well-situated  communities  must 
fail  as  against  those  where  system  and  effi- 
ciency are  thoroughly  adopted,  and  it  is  neces- 
sary to  save  every  leak  and  develop  every  ad- 
vantage to  the  full. 

Therefore  the  city's  first  object  should  be 
to  furnish  special  advantages  (differentials) 
to  its  business.  To  do  so  it  must  favor  pro- 
duction— rather  than  ownership,  and  make  its 

first  care  the  prosperity  of  the,  working 
classes,  like  the  Germans.  "Cities  live  by 
their  business  life  with  the  outside  world,  and 
on  this  foundation  build  religion,  culture  and 
morals."  Hence  all  wastes  must  be  avoided: 
the  ward  system,  graft,  monopolies,  debauch- 
ery, bad  housing,  private-owned  waterfronts, 
poor  terminal  facilities.  The  old  system  of 
mayor  and  council  must  give  way  to  the  Man- 
ager plan  of  government,  complete  and  exact 
surveys  must  be  drawn  up  and  applied,  the 
city  must  acquire  and  operate  its  chief  pub- 
lic utilities  so  as  to  deliver  good  services  at 
cost.  All  these  points  are  strongly  and  in- 
telligently discussed  in  a  manner  appealing  to 
business  men.  The  author  regrets  that  busi- 
ness classes  often  oppose  some  of  these  im- 
provements because  they  have  not  thought 
them  out.  At  the  same  time  perhaps  he  does 
not  sufficiently  allow  for  peculiarly  composed 
communities  like  polyglot  Montreal,  nor  for 
the  necessity  of  effort  at  the  same  time  by 
other  elements  than  those  of  business,  such  as 
the  churches  and  settlement  workers.  And 
have  not  the  German  communities  over  em- 
phasized materialistic  idealB  of  progress? 
Nevertheless,  it  is  true  that  our  responsible 
business  men  have  not  as  a  whole  properly 
backed  up  those  who  work  for  reforms  nor 
grasped  the  full  injury  done  to  themselves  by 
bad  civic  conditions  and  mismanagement. 
(Macmillan,  Toronto,  $1.50.) 



Jamiarv,  1919. 

Making  Farmers  Into  "Big  Business" 


WHILE  it  is  generally  acknowledged 
that  the  Grain  Growers'  Associations 
have  done  great  service  for  the  wheat 
farmers  i'  the  prairie  provinces  during  the 
last  twelve  or  fifteen  years  in  their  fight  for 
right  against  the  might  of  certain  organized 
interests,  few  persons  outside  of  those  who 
are  intimately  connected  with  the  Associations 
are  acquainted  with  the  details  of  the  work. 

The  full  story  of  the  co-operative  efforts  of 
the  farmers  has  now  been  told  for  the  first 
time  by  Mr.  Hopkins  Moorhouse  in  "Deep 
Furrows"  in  a  way  that  will  appeal  to  the 
imagination  of  most  readers.  In  these  days  of 
1'nited  Farmers'  Ass'ociati  as,  -Mr.  Moorhouse's 
book  should  be  of  great  interest  to  the  farmers 
of  Eastern  Canada,  for  it  points  out  clearly  that 
success  in  the  west  was  only  attained  by  the 
loyal  co-operation  of  all  the  members  and  the 
fortunate  selection  of  leaders. 

To  the  economist  "Deep  Furrows"  will  be. 
of  interest  as  it  describes  the  stages  of  de- 
velopment of  the  grain  growers  association, 
from  the  formation  of  the  first  local  associa- 
tion to  the  amalgamation  of  the  Grain  Growers' 
Company  of  Manitoba  with  the  Alberta  Farm- 
ers' Co-operative  Elevator  Company  into  the 
United  Grain  Growers  Limited.  This  united 
company  is  the  world's  greatest  farmers'  co- 
operative enterprise.  It  has  more  than  35.000 
shareholders,  assets  of  six  millions,  and  a  turn- 
over last  year  of  one  hundred  millions.  It 
operates  nearly  500  grain  elevators,  250  floor 
warehouses.  200  coal  sheds,  two  implement 
warehouses,  a  large  timber  mill,  and  a  large 
timber  tract. 

The  conditions  that  made  co-operative  action 
necessary  on  the  part  of  the  farmers  are  fully 
discussed.  They  complained  of  excessive  dock- 
age charges  and  unfair  weight  at  the  elevators, 
and  of  the  monopoly  enjoyed  by  the  elevator 
owners  in  the  purchase  of  grain  whereby  the 
prices  were  kept  excessively  low.  The  Royal 
Commission  that  investigated  the  matter  in 
1899-1900  found  the  farmers'  grievances  justi- 
fied, and  the  Manitoba  Grain  Act  of  1!)00  was 
an  effort  to  remedy  matters;  but  the  elevator 
owners  continued  their  obi  methods,  hedging 
behind  the  railway  company,  which  did  not 
furnish  enough  ears  to  carry  away  the  grain 
from  the  warehouses  and  elevators  as  stipulated 
in  the  Act. 

In  the  fall  of  1!I01  the  farmers  were  called 
together  at  Indian  Head  by  W.  R.  Motherwell 
and  Peter  Dayman  for  the  purpose  of  taking 
action  against  the  elevator  owners  and  the 
railway.  At  this  meeting  the  Territorial  Grain 
Growers'  Association  was  formed,  and  in  1H02 
it  took  legal  action  against  the  C.  P.  R.  and  won. 

The  ruling  spirit  among  the  farmers  for  the 
next  few  years  was  E.  A.  Partridge  of  Sinta- 
luta.  He  was  sent  to  Winnipeg  to  report  on 
the  methods  of  grading  wheat,  but  he  had  not 
been  long  in  his  position  before  he  saw  the 
necessity  of  the  farmers  themselves  marketing 
their  wheat  if  they  were  ever  to  get  satis- 
factory returns.  Accordingly  he  called  meet- 
ings throughout  the  province  and  brought  the 
plan  to  the  attention  of  the  wheat  growers. 
The  response  was  cold  at  many  places,  but  fin- 
ally in  1906  the  Association  bought  a  seat  in  the 
Winnipeg  Grain  Exchange  and  began  to  do 
business  on  its  own  account  in  the  consignment 
of  grain.  It  met  at  first  with  strong  competi- 
tion from  organized  interests,  especially  from 
the  grain  dealers  of  the  Exchange.  Thus,  when 
the  Association  declared  a  plan  of  a  patronage 
dividend  the  Grain  Exchange  took  away  its  seat 
seat,  on  the  ground  that  the  dividends  con- 
trary to  the  rules  of  the  Exchange.  Such  action 
threatened  the  existence  of  the  Associaiton. 
so  it  appealed  to  the  Manitoba  Government  to 
have  the  seat  restored.  The  Government  threat- 
ened to  revoke  the  charter  of  the  Exchange  if 
it  refused  to  recognize  the  farmers,  who  at  the 
same  time  withdrew  their  plan  of  patronage 

Instead,  therefore,  of  paying  dividends,  the 
company  built  up  a  powerful  reserve  fund, 
which  it  used  to  extend  its  scope  of  operations. 
In  spite  of  opposition,  however,  the  organiza- 
tion prospered,  becoming  the  largest  factor  in 
the  handling  of  grain  in  the  Winnipeg  Ex- 

Such,  in  brief,  is  the  history  of  the  Grain 
Growers'  Company  as  told  in  "Deep  Furrows.  ' 
Of  the  many  dramatic  incidents  in  the  struggle 
of  the  farmers  for  their  fair  and  just  rights. 
described  to  the  writer  in  forceful  language, 
the  most  outstanding  were  the  troubles  with 
the  railway  and  the  banks,  the  government 
contr  1  of  the  elevators,  the  founding  of  the 
Grain  Growers'  Guide,  tinder  the  editorship 
first  of  E.  A.  Partridge  and  later  of  Roderick 
McKenzie,  the  federal  control  of  the  terminal 
elevators,  the  exposure  of  "Observer,"  and 
some  of  the  experiences  with  foreign  shipments 
of  grain. 

"Deep  Furrows"  brings  out  in  relief  the 
names  of  those  farmers  who  bore  the  heavy 
part  of  the  exacting  ami  responsible  task,  not 
only  of  organizing  and  directing  the  company 
but  of  overcoming  the  great  opposition  that 
continually  faced  it.  Such  men  as  YV.  R.  Moth- 
erwell, Peter  Dayman.  J.  W.  Scallion,  J.  A. 
McIIarg,  E.  A.  Partridge.  John  Miller.  John 
Sibb  Id.  John  Kennedy,  E.  A.  Fream  and  T.  A. 
Creraf  get  due  credit  for  their  fine  services. 
The  must  surprising  feature  of  the  struggle  in 

January)  1919. 



many  respects  was  the  adaptability,  shown  by 
the  leaders  to  meet  the  critical  situations  as 
they  arose.  Plain  Farmers  became  captains  of 
finance  and  organization. 

It  must  be  remembered,  however,  thai  "Deep 
Furrows"  is  written  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  Grain    Growers.      Perhaps    some    of    the 

criticisms   of   the    actions     if    the    C.    P.    R.    ami 

cei  tain  banks  would  be  Ilowed  it'  the  com- 
panies concerned  were  allowed  to  make  explan- 
ons  on  the  h  hole.  Mr.  Moorehouse  has  done 
liis  task  well,  and  •'  peep  Furrows"  desen 
wide  .ale  on  account  of  its  intrinsic  historical 
value  and  as  a  c  ntribution  to  the  literature  of 
economics.  Prom  a  literarj  point  of  view  it 
"  ould  lose  none  of  its  effectiveness  if  the  P 
v  "ill  were  omitted. 

Recent  Publications  on  Agricultural  Subjects 

T1IK   field   of  agriculture    is   so   large   and 
varied   that   it   is  very  difficult   to   keep 
readers  fully  informed  as  to  the  contents 
of  the  many  excellent  books  that  appear  from 
time   to    time.     These    books    may   be    roughly 
classified   into   two   groups:    (1)    the   more   or 
less  technical   for  the  students  of  agricultural 
colleges,  and  (2)  the  popular  or  semi-scientific 
for  sehools  and  the  general  reader.     The  first 
group  contains  a   longer  list  than   the  second. 
Publishers,  as  a  rule,  are  alert  and  send  out  at 
intervals  both  lists  and  reviews  of  new  books, 
but    these    reaeh    booksellers    mainly.         Some 
Departments  of  Agriculture  in  the  U.  S.  and 
Canada   publish   lists  of   recent   additions   pre- 
pared  by    their   librarians,      which    sometimes 
find  their  way  into  the  hands  of  librarians  in 
cities  and  the  larger  towns  and  no  doubt  serve 
a  useful  purpose.     Dr.  D.  J.  Stevenson,  of  the 
Ontario  Agricultural  College,  has  recently  pre- 
pared a  bulletin  giving  a  list  of  books  on  Agri- 
culture   and   Household      Science      with     brief 
notes  on  their  contents  and  character.       This 
compilation  will  be  widely  distributed  through 
Ontario,    and    will    make      a   useful    guide    for 

Brief  mention,  however,  is  made  in  this  bul- 
letin of  books,  dealing  with  two  of  the  most 
recently  organized  departments  of  agricul- 
tural study,  namely.  Agricultural  Economics 
and  Rural  Soc'ology.  The  literature  on  these 
subjects  is  already  quite  extensive,  and  the 
war  has  accentuated  its  production.  For  some 
time  it  has  been  recogni/.ed  by  agricultural 
leaders  that  farming  deals  with  other  matters 
than  the  production  of  erops  and  live  stock. 
It  has  also  to  do  with  the  marketing  of  farm 
products  and  the  up-bu;lding  and  maintenance 
of  a  satisfactory  rural  life  in  which  the  farmer 
and  his  family  may  find  expression  for  the 
highest  ideals  of  citizenship.  Hence  the  de- 
velopment of  Agricultural  Economics  and  Ru- 
ral Sociology,  but  as  new  subjects  the  prin- 
ciples have  not  yet  been  fully  formulated. 

In  connection  with  the  new  Rural  Life 
Movement  of  the  past  decade,  the  Church  has 
taken  a  deep  interest  and  the  results  of  many 
valuable  studies  of  rural  problems  have  been 
published  in  book  form.  The  more  important 
recent   publications   are : 

"The    Rural    Church     Movement."    by    E.    L. 
Earp.      The   Methodist   Book   Co. 

"Recreation  and  the  Church,"  by  II.  VY.  Gate 
The  University  of  Chicago  Press. 

"Using     the      Resources    of       the     Country 
Church."   by   E.   R.   Groves.     The    Associa 
fcion  Press.  N.Y. 

"The  Country  Church.-'  by  Gill  ami  Pinchot. 
The  Macmillan  Co. 

"The    Country    Church    ami    the    Rural    Prob- 
lem." by  K.  L.  Butterfield.    The  University 
of   Chicago    Press. 
From    the    general     sociological     viewpoint. 

the  following  publications  are   most    valuable, 

and  should  be  in  most  public  libraries: — 

"The  Rural  Life  Problem  in  the*  United 
States,"  by  S'r  Horace  Plunkett.  The  Mac- 
millan Co. 

"Report  of  the  Country  Life  Commission, 
United  States,"  Sturgis  and  Walton. 

"The  Challenge  of  the  Country."  by  W.  Fiske. 
The  Associated  Press,  New  York. 

"Introduction  to  Rural  Sociology,"  by  P.  L. 
Vogt.     Appletons. 

"The  Socialogy  of  Rural  Life."  Publ.  of  the 
Am.  Soc.  Soc.  Vol.  XT.  University  of  Chi- 
cago   Pl'eSS. 

"Rural   Life   in   Canada."   by  J.   MacDougall. 

The  Westminster  Co. 
"The    Holy   Earth."   by   L.   H.   Bailey.    Scrib- 

"The    Evolution    of    a    Country    Community." 

by  W.  H.  Wilson.     The  Pilgrim  Press. 

In   the  field   of  Agricultural  Economics  the 
following   publications   are   valuable   and   sug- 
gestive,  as  they  discuss  the  various   problems 
quite   fully : — 
"Farm  Management."  by  G.  F.  Warren.   The 

Macmillan  Co. 
"Chapters  in  Rural  Progress."  by  K.  L.  But- 
terfield.    Univ.  Chicago  Press. 
••Agricultural   Economics,"  by   E.   G.   Nourse. 

Univ.  Chicago  Press. 
"Selected  Readings  in  Rural  Economics."  by 

T.  N.  Carver.     Ginn  and  Co. 
•'Rural  Credits,"  by  M.  T.  Herrick. 
"Rural    Reconstruction    in    Ireland."      Smith. 

Gordon  and  Staples. 
"Co-operation  in  Agriculture,"  G.  H.  Powell. 

The  Macmillan  Co. 
"Deep   Furrows."  by   H.   Moorhouse.     G.   II. 

McLeod,   Ltd. 



January,  1919. 

"This  Way  Out  of  Chaos" 

By  O.  D.  SKELTON 

Shortt,  Adam,  "Early  Economic  Effects  of  the  War 
Upon  Canada."'  Carnegie  Endowment  for  In- 
ternational Peace.  Oxford  University  Press, 
London,  New  York  and  Toronto.  1918.  Pp.  xvi.. 

Henderson,  Arthur.  "The  Aims  of  Labour."  McClel- 
land, Goodehild  and  Stewart,  Toronto.  1918.  Pp. 
128.     $.50. 

"The  Elements  of  Reconstruction."  Introduction 
by  Viscount  Milner.  Nisbet  and  Co.,  London. 
1917.     Pp.  120.     One  Shilling,  net. 

Hichens,  W.  L.,  "Some  Problems  of  Modern  Indus- 
try." Nisbet  and  Co.,  London.  1918.  Pp.  61. 
Sixpence,  net. 

Macara,  Sir  Charles  W.,  "Social  and  Industrial  Re- 
form, 1918."  Sherrat  and  Hughes,  Manchester. 
5  shillings. 

Furniss,  H.  S.  (editor),  "The  Industrial  Outlook." 
Chatto  and  Windus,  London,  1917.  Pp.,  402.  5 

Gardner,  Lucy  (editor);  "The  Hope  for  Society." 
G.  Bell  and  Sons,  London.     1917.     Pp.  236.     4s  6d. 

Dawson,  W.  H.  (editor),  "After  War  Problems." 
George  Allen  and  Unwin,  London.  Pp.  366.  Six 

Carter,  Huntlev  (editor),  "Industrial  Reconstruc- 
tion."   E.  P.  Dutton,  New  York.    Pp.  295.    $1.50. 

A  REVIEW  confined  to  Canadian  economic 
or  social  publications  of  the  past  few 
months  would  be  almost  as  brief  as  the 
chapter  on  snakes  in  the  standard  treatise  on 
Ireland.  There  have  been  practically  none. 
Whatever  is  responsible,  the  overshadowing 
war,  the  lack  of  trained  writers,  the  scattered 
Canadian  reading  public,  our  habit  of  letting 
English  and  United  States  writers  do  our 
thinking  for  us,  or  what  not,  the  fact  remains 
that  aside  from  periodical  publications  few  dis- 
tinctly Canadian  contributions  are  appearing  in 
this  field.  Some  of  much  promise,  such  as 
Mackenzie  King's  "Industry  and  Humanity" 
are  announced  for  early  publication,  and  there 
are  other  signs  that  a  state  of  affairs  which 
does  little  credit  to  Canada  will  soon  be  changed 
for  the  better. 

The  outstanding  Canadian  economic  work  of 
the  past  few  months  is  doubtless  Dr.  Adam 
Shortt's  monograph  for  the  Carnegie  Endow- 
ment, "Early  Economic  Effects  of  the  War 
upon  Canada."  Dr.  Shortt  begins  by  an  ad- 
mirable survey  of  economic  conditions  in  Can- 
ada on  the  eve  of  the  war.  Nowhere  is  a  bet- 
ter analysis  available  of  the  feverish  specula- 
tive activities  which  marked  the  years  when 
men  and  capital  were  pouring  into  the  country. 
He  then  traces  clearly  and  concisely  the  effect 
of  the  war  on  industry,  employment,  and  for- 
eign trade.  If  the  other  countries  which  the 
Carnegie  Endowment  intends  to  survey  are  as 
competently  handled,  the  world  will  have  a 
thorough  and  scientific  review  of  one  of  the 
must  important  phases  of  the  great  war. 

In  default  of  other  economic  studies  by  Can- 
adians, it  may  be  of  use  to  note  very  briefly 
some    of    the    more     important     contributions 

which  are  being  made  across  the  water  to  the 
literature   of  reconstruction. 

"Reconstruction"  is  in  danger  of  becoming 
as  worn  a  counter  as  "camouflage."  Yet  the 
word  stands  for  a  great  and  pressing  reality. 
The  war  has  given  not  only  new  angles  but  new 
urgency  to  every  social  and  economic  issue, 
and  has  created  a  revolutionary  temper  which 
is  prepared  to  overhaul  every  institution  that 
does  not  measure  up  to  the  new  standards  of 
efficiency  and  social  justice.  The  results  of 
wars  are  often  a  very  different  thing  from  the 
objects  aimed  at  by  either  side  in  the  conflict, 
and  there  are  already  many  signs  that  social 
revolution  will  hold  the  world's  stage  to  the 
exclusion  of  most  of  the  issues  primarily  in- 
volved in  the  war.  Only  by  the  most  careful 
study  of  the  great  questions  which  have  been 
thrust  upon  us  can  we  avert  chaos  and  disaster. 

From  very  nearly  the  beginning  of  the  war 
many  individuals  aud  groups  in  Great  Britain 
have  been  planning  the  rebuilding  that  must 
some  day  be  attempted.  The  books  noted  be- 
low, in  which  they  present  their  conclusions, 
are  of  a  very  high  general  level  of  ability  and 
insight.  They  differ  widely  in  emphasis  and 
viewpoint,  but  all  are  serious  and  distinctive 
contributions.  Of  course,  their  conclusions  are 
not  to  be  applied  with  change  to  our  conditions. 
Only  second  to  the  folly  of  ignoring  what  other 
countries  have  to  suggest  to  us,  is  the  folly  of 
trying  to  apply  their  policies  or  programmes  to 
wha  may  be  essentally  different  conditions. 

In  "The  Aims  of  Labour,"  Arthur  Henderson, 
Secretary  of  the  British  Labour  party,  offers 
what  may  be  essentially  different  conditions, 
the  two  famous  pronouncements  of  the  party  on 
social  reconstruction  and  on  foreign  policy, 
which  are  printed  as  appendices  to  his  book. 
These  statements  of  Labour  policy  have  been 
widely  circulated  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic, 
and  merit  the  closest  possible  study.  Whether 
one  agrees  with  their  conclusions  or  not,  there 
is  no  room  for  question  that  they  are  the  ablest 
and  most  comprehensive  and  coherent  platform 
ever  put  forward  by  any  political  party.  The 
Memorandum  on  War  Aims,  in  its  insistence  on 
the  establishment  of  some  international  author- 
ity to  determine  and  ensure  justice,  in  its  re- 
cognition of  the  importance  of  the  economic 
factor  in  world  affairs,  and  in  its  detailed  sug- 
gestions for  reconciling  nationalist  claims  with 
the  need  of  economic  unity,  presents  a  pro- 
gramme which  has  the  support  of  progressive 
opinion  the  world  over.  There  will  be  more 
difference  of  opinion  on  the  economic  policy 
set  forth.  The  four  principles  of  National 
Minimums,  of  Democratic  Control  of  Industry. 
of  Democratic  Finance  and  the  Appropriation 
of  Surplus  Wealth  for  the  Common  Hood,  will 
meet  wide  approval.  It  by  no  means  follows 
that   the   nationalization   of  practically  all   in- 

January,  1!U!I. 



dustries  is  the  in'st   way,  or  a  waj   al  all,  to 
secure  democratic  control.    The  Fabian  wri 
nr  inspirers  of  the  programme  stand  exactly 

where  they  did  t  w  enty-five  years  ago,  and  seem 

utterly  impervious  tn  the  newei  Ideas,  whether 
of  syndicalism,  of  guild  socialism  or  of  part- 
nership on  the  Whitley  basis.  It  certainly  is 
surprising  to  see  the  Labour  part]  bo  ready  to 
endorse  Mr.  Sydney  Webb's  identification  of 

democracy     with     bureaucracy.         Nonetheless, 

both  the  programmes  of  the  party  and  Mr. 
Henderson's  moderate  and  lucid  comments  de- 
mand attention. 

From  another  quarter  there  comes  a  little 
book.  "The  Elements  of  Reconstruction,"  fath- 
ered by  no  name  but  godfathered  by  Lord 
Milner  in  a  pregnant  introduction,  which  makes 
it  clear  that  sweeping  changes  have  advocates 
at  both  ends  of  society.  The  main  thesis  of 
the  authors  of  this  study,  which  is  admirably 
concise,  is  that  combination  of  industry  on  a 
very  large  scale  is  essential  it*  England  is  to 
hold  her  plaee  in  trade,  and  is  indispensable 
as  a  basis  for  the  application  of  scientific  re- 
search to  industry.  Insteady  of  a  tariff  on  agri- 
cultural products,  they  urge  national  purchase 
through  one  office  of  all  food  requirements, 
paying  home  producers  more  than  foreign. 
They  strongly  advocate  proportional  represen- 
tation and  also  occupational  representation, 
that  is,  the  election  of  members  representing 
Army  and  Navy"  rather  than  such  places  as 
"Scotch  Minerals  or  English  Textiles  or  the 
Hampstead  or  Croydon,  "whose  inhabitants 
have  scarcely  anything  in  common  except  a 
postal  address."  Just  how  the  two  reforms 
could  be  worked  o\it  together,  is  not  made 
clear.  As  might  be  expected  in  a  book  having 
Lord  Milner 's  blessing,  the  authors  are  eager 
to  save  the  Empire  by  ample  doses  of  that  good 
old  nostrum.  Imperial  Federation.  As  to  edu- 
cation they  urge  the  claims  of  history,  philoso- 
phy and  the  social  science,  in  university  work, 
as  against  either  an  exclusively  classical  or 
an  exclusively  scientific  curriculum. 

!->till  more  significant  of  the  altered  attitude 
of  the  employing  class  is  the  Watts  lecture  on 
'•Some  Problems  of  Modern  Industry,"  by  W. 
L.  Hichens,  Chairman  of  Channel,  Laird  &  Co., 
Mr.  Hichens,  as  might  have  been  expected,  em- 
phasizes the  necessity  of  increasing  output, 
utilizing  new  methods  and  machinery,  stand- 
ardizing machines,  developing  cheap  and  cen- 
tralized power,  abolisihng  strikers,  removing 
restrictions  placed  by  trades  unions  on  out- 
put, and  organizing  common  selling  agen- 
cies for  each  industry.  More  novel  is  his 
insistence  that  industry  must  be  considered  a 
national  service,  and  that  in  consequence  profits 
must  be  limited,  labour  controlled  by  the  state, 
a  measure  of  partnership  in  the  control  of  in- 
dustry set  us  (subject  to  the  right  of  the  senior 
partner  to  fire  the  junior  partner,  as  every 
manager  must  be  left  free  to  select  his  own 
employees  ,  a  shorter  work  day  made  obligatory, 
and  provision  made  for  a  yearly  holiday  on 
full  pay  for  every  worker. 

In  '•Social  and  Industrial  Reform."  another 
distinguished  employer.  Sir  Charles  W.  Maeara, 
presents  the  programme  of  those  employers  who 

see    thai    laissez   faire   and    industrial    autocracy 

nave  had  their  day,  but  are  not   prepared  to 
abolish  the  wage  Bystem  at  the  behest  of  social 
ist  or  syndicalist.    lie  wishes  to  see  the  "capital 

diluted  with  as  much  humanism  as  possible." 
Strong  unions  of  workmen  and  employers,  in- 
dustrial councils  to  work  out  a  real  partnership, 
increased   output    and    high    wages,    industrial 

arbitration,  international   tree  trade — these  are 

the  principles  of  this  orthodox  but  progressive 
leader  of  England's  greatesl  industry,  the  cot- 
ton  manufacturing    industry   of   Lancashire. 

Iii  "The  Industrial  Outlook,"  edited  by  II.  S, 
Furniss,  the  views  of  a  group  of  writers,  chiefly 
instructors  in  the  provincial  universities,  are 
given.  II.  Clay  summarizes  very  clearly  the 
present  status  of  wage-earners,  G.  W.  Daniels 
brings  together  some  coiiiiuon-places  on  em- 
ployers and  property.  .1.  K.  Taylor  gives  a  suc- 
cinct historical  review  of  labour  organization 
in  England.  A.  W.  Ashby  gives  an  excellent 
analysis  of  English  agriculture  on  the  technical, 
labour  and  business  sides.  T.  E.  Gregory  dis- 
cusses the  changes  necessary  in  the  banking 
system,  especially  in  increased  gold  reserve, 
longer  trade  credits,  and  the  linking  up  of  post 
office  savings  and  the  co-operative  banks.  W. 
H.  Pringle  outlines  a  scheme  of  state  finance 
on  free  trade  lines,  and  in  a  very  acute  analysis 
of  the  relation  of  the  state  to  industry  gives 
reasons  for  doubting  whether  the  state  is  to  be- 
come so  all-dominant  as  many  hope  and  many 
fear.  Altogether,  a  well-informed,  coherent 
survey,  containing  no  startling  suggestions  but 
full  of  meat. 

Another  symposium,  "The  Hope  for  Society," 
edited  by  Miss  Lucy  Gardner,  is  more  sweep- 
ing in  its  scope  and  also  more  sketchy.  The 
Bishop  of  Oxford  emphasizes  the  part  the  fam- 
ily must  play  in  reconstruction.  J.  A.  Hobson, 
as  usual,  is  pessimistic  about  the  revival  of  a 
new  industrial  feudalism.  Clutton  Brock  voices 
the  claims  of  art  to  a  larger  consideration, 
and  J.  St.  G.  Heath  emphasizes  the  need  of 
developing  a  social  conscience  in  the  use  of  in- 
come. Miss  Bondfield  deals  with  the  position  of 
women  in  industry,  while  Mrs.  Pethwick  Law- 
rence discusses  the  wider  aspects  of  the  wo- 
man's movement.  C.  Turner  and  Roden  Buxton 
present  the  conservative  and  the  radical  view 
respectively  as  to  the  future  reorganization  of 
agriculture.  Philip  Kerr,  editor  of  the  Round 
Table,  gives  a  moderate  statement  of  the  case 
for  imperial  federation,  while  Mr.  Ernest  Bark- 
er has  some  wise  words  on  sex  and  class  re- 
adjustments. Sir  Hugh  Bell  presents  the  em- 
ployer "s  view  as  to  trade  union  regulations 
and  Dr.  A.  J.  Carlyle  the  trade  union  view. 
The  essays  are  all  well  written  and  all  sug- 
gestive, though  hardly  full  enough  to  cover 
their   fields    adequately. 

In  "After  War  Problems."  edited  by  W.  H. 
Dawson,  many  of  the  some  questions  are  given 
fuller  treatment.  The  first  essay,  written  by 
the  Earl  of  Cromer  just  before  his  death,  dis- 
cusses the  subject  of  imperial  federation  from 
the  standpoint  of  an  experienced  imperial  pro- 
consul: in  common  with  most  English  writers 
on  this  subject.  Lord  Cromer  seems  blissfully 
unaware  that  the  Dominions  at  present  control 



January,  1919. 

most  matters  which  come  under  the  head  of 
foreign  affairs,  and  do  not  need  to  seek  repre- 
sentation in  an  imperial  parliament  to  get  a 
share  of  such  control:  Lord  Haldane  gives 
a  weighty  and  very  helpful  survey  of  the  edu- 
cational field.  Sir  IL  II.  Johmcon  deals  with 
proposals  to  restrict  the  immigration  or  natur- 
alization of  aliens  in  the  light  of  England's  his- 
tory. Dr.  Garnett,  Professor  Chapman,  G.  H. 
Roberts,  the  Labour  member,  and  Sir  Ben- 
jamin Browne  present  different  angles  of  the 
question  of  the  relation  of  the  state,  the  em- 
ployer and  the  workman.  The  Bishop  of  Exeter 
gives  the  Cecil  family  view  as  fco  the  rehabili- 
tation of  rural  life.  II.  R.  Aldridge  deals  in- 
formingly  with  housing  and  James  Kerr  with 
National  Health.  Professor  Marshall  makes  a 
very  thorough  and  well-balanced  analysis  of 
public  finance  problems,  and  a  half  dozen  oth- 
er writers  contribute  their  quotas  to  a  solid  and 
workmanlike  book. 

Of  a  different  type  is  the  symposium  edited 
by  Iluntly  Carter,  entitled  "Industrial  Recon- 

struction." The  book  contains  the  answers 
made  by  some  sixty  representative  Eulishmen 
to  a  series  of  questions  as  to  the  industrial 
situation  after  the  war,  submitted  by  the  editor. 
As  is  inevitable  in  so  varied  a  group  of  con- 
tributors, the  discussion  is  uneven  and  a  bit 
bewildering.  The  conciseness  of  the  answers 
made,  and  the  unity  of  theme,  however,  make 
it  possible  with  a  little  care  to  get  a  very  good 
idea  of  practically  all  the  programmes  being 
put  forward  for  industrial  reconstruction.  The 
contributions  of  the  National  Guildsmen  group, 
including  G.  D.  Cole.  W.  Mellor  and  M.  B. 
Reckitt,  will  probably  be  found  most  novel  by 
the  majority  of  readers,  but  the  whole  book  is 
extremely  stimulating  in  suggesting  new  angles 
of  approach. 

Doubtless  before  another  quarter  rolls  by, 
Canadian  anil  United  States  writers  will  have 
begun  to  make  their  contributions  to  the  same 
general  theme.  Our  English  cousins  have  set 
a  high  standard  of  achievement  in  these  pioneer 

How  Autocracy  Slew  Itself 

BY  superimposing  the  very  dramatic  and 
topical  title  "Suicide  of  Monarchy"  upon 
a  volume  which  was  apparently  intended 
originally  to  sail  under  the  non-committal  flag 
of  "Russian  D;plomat,"  the  publishers  of 
Baron  Eugene  de  Schelking's  highly  interest- 
ing  collection  of  personalia  on  the  royal  fam- 
ilies of  Continental  Europe  have  probably 
succeeded  in  catching  the  public  ear  to  good 
purpose.  The  new  t;tle  is  not  unjustified.  Mr. 
de  Rchelking  (he  seems  to  have  abandoned  his 
Russian  dignity  when  he  settled  in  Canada) 
has  a  very  intimate  knowledge  of  precisely 
those  weaknesses  of  the  kingly  caste  in  Europe 
which  plunged  the  world  into  the  recent  catas- 
trophe and  ensured  the  disappearance  of  both 
kin?  and  caste  from  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
earth's  surface.  There  is  not  in  his  pages  any 
"l-eat  amount  of  the  "secret  memoirs"  style 
of  information  which  will  perhaps  be  looked 
For  by  Mime  on  the  strength  of  the  book's  title 
ITe  refrains  from  descriptions  of  the  bathing 
habits  of  Rasput'n,  and  even  discredits  the 
idea  that  the  conquests  of  that  unclean  per- 
son reached  into  the  highest  circles  of  Russian 
society.  He  suspends  judgment  concerning 
even  the  Eulenburg  scandal,  which  most  court 
gossips  accent  as  sufficiently  proven,  and  al- 
together exhibits  a  most  praiseworthy  atti- 
tude towards  the  accusation  which  are  so  eas- 
ily made  concerning  those  who  have  lost  the 
power  to  defend  themselves. 

His  portraits  of  the  crowned  heads  of  pre- 
war Europe  are  lifelike  and  drawn  at  short 
range,  but  do  not  profess  to  the  intimacies  of 

a  valet  or  even  a  dentist.  To  serious  students 
of  recent  history,  the  most  valuable  part  of 
the  book  will  be  that  which  deals  with  the  oc- 
cupants of  the  various  important  diplomatic 
posts  in  Europe  during  the  last  few  years.  Mr. 
de  Schelking's  knowledge  of  these  personages 
is  extensive,  and  his  judgment  acute,  and  he 
writes  with  the  remarkable  freedom  of  one 
who  realizes  that  his  past  career  is  totally 
closed,  and  that  he  must  make  a  new  life  for 
himself  in  a  new  world.  Mr.  de  Sehelking 
has  been  residing  for  a  considerable  time  in 
Vancouver,  where  he  has  entirely  recast  this 
volume  in  collaboration  with  L.  W.  Makovski. 
an  experienced  traveller  and  journalist  whose 
articles  on  the  war  and  the  political  situation 
in  Europe  have  been  one  of  the  features  of 
the  Vancouver  Daily  Province,  and  who  con- 
tributes a  clever  preface.  "I  know  no  book," 
says  Mr.  Makovski,  not  without  justice, 
"which  gives  a  better  proof  of  the  value  of 
democracy  than  this  one.  Not  because  it  deals 
with  democratic  principles,  but  because  it  ex- 
poses the  weaknesses  of  autocratic  govern- 
ment." And  one  lays  down  the  volume  con- 
vinced that,  bad  as  it  may  be  for  statesmen 
to  be  compelled  to  consult  the  caprices  of  a 
universal-suffrage  electorate  (and  it  is  only  in 
a  mistaken  and  exaggerated  form  of  democracy 
that  those  caprices  become  dangerous),  it  is 
infiniately  worse  that  they  should  have  to 
maintain  themselves  in  power  by  pandering  to 
the  follies  and  selfishness  of  vain  and  vicious 
autocrats.      (Macmillan,   Toronto,   $2). 

January.  L919. 



Among  the  Booksellers 

IT  is  impossible  to  converse  for  five  minutes 
with  any  of  the  Leading  booksellers  of  Can- 
ada without  perceiving  how  greatly  en- 
hanced a  sense  of  the  importance  and  public 
serviceability  of  the  book  business  has  been 
developed  as  a  result  of  conditions  during  the 
world  war.  The  besl  booksellers  in  Canada 
have  always  regarded  themselves  as  educa- 
tionists, leaders  of  the  public  taste;  hut  they 
have  never  had  so  many  proofs  of  their  power, 
and  of  the  good  uses  to  which  it  can  be  put,  as 
they  have  had  since  the  making  of  public  opin- 
ion became  a  matter  of  general  concern  owing 
to  the  war. 

"Tlie  hook  trade  has  gained  considerable 
prestige  during  the  war."  said  Mr.  Harry  Bur- 
ton, of  Foster  Brown  Company,  Limited,  to 
the  Canadian  Bookman.  "It  lias  been  declared 
by  the  governments,  both  of  England  and  of 
the  United  States  to  be  an  essential  industry. 
It  has  been  used  repeatedly  by  the  various 
governments  for  the  distribution  of  propa- 
gandist literature,  and  recognized  as  a  power- 
ful  socialising  agent. 

"Literature,  from  a  bookseller's  point  of 
view,  has  passed  through  four  dist'nct  stages 
since  1914.  The  first  stage  was  the  enquiry 
into  the  cause  and  origin  of  the  war.  and  is 
well  represented  by  the  demand  for  such  works 
as  Bernhardi's  'Germany  and  the  Next  War,' 
Cramb's  'Germany  and  England,'  Wister's 
'Pentecost  of  Calamity,'  Oliver's  'Ordeal  by 
Battle."  the  official  government  papers  and 
the  Oxford  pamphlets. 

"The  second  stage  was  the  public  interest 
in  descriptions  of  the  fighting  by  war  cor- 
respondents, and  produced  Boyd  Cable's  'Be- 
tween the  Lines.'  Palmer's  'My  First  Year  of 
the  War.'  Philip  Gibbs'  'Soul  of  War,'  and 
Donald  Hankeys'  'Student  in  Arms.' 

"Third  came  the  personal  narrative  period, 
during  which  soldiers  wrote  of  their  experi- 
ence at  the  front,    The  most  successful  narra- 

tives were  'Over  the  Top, '  ' Private  Peat,'  and 
'Kitchener's    Mob.' 

"The   final   stage  brings  us  to  the  present 
time,  and  finds  the  novel  again  the  mosl  popu 

lar  hook.  Although  the  most  successful  novels 
of  the  war,  'Soma,'  by  Stephen  McKenna 
'Changing  \V  mis,'  by  St.  John  Irvine,  and 
'Mr.  Britling,'  do  not  rightly  belong  to  tie- 
later  period,  they  are  still  in  active  demand." 
Mr.  William  Tyrrell,  of  Toronto,  points  out 
that  not  only  is  fiction  the  commanding  com- 
mod'ty  in  the  book  market  at  the  present  mo- 
ment, but  that  the  present  winter  is  unique  in 
bookselling  records  owing  to  the  absence  of 
any  outstanding  book  of  biography,  reminis- 
cence, history  or  criticism.  There  are  a  mini 
ber  of  excellent  minor  works  in  several  of 
these  categories,  but  nothing  comparable  with, 
for  example,  the  Morley  "Recollections." 
Usually  there  are  at  hast  two  or  three  works 
of  this  calibre  in  a  winter,  works  which  every 
real  reader  feels  obliged  to  make  an  acquaint 
ance  with.  The  present  anomalous  situation  is 
probably  due  to  the  uncertainty  as  to  the  fu- 
ture (of  peace  and  war)  which  prevailed  dur- 
ing the  summer  when  publishers  were  laying 
their  plans,  and  to  the  paper  and  labour  short- 
age in  Great  Britain,  which  is  the  source  of 
most  publicaCons  of  the  kind.  Mr.  Tyrrell 
noted  a  revival  in  the  demand,  in  Toronto,  for 
Lord  Charnwood's  "Lincoln,"  but  this  was 
due  to  the  local  accident  of  the  distinguished 
author's  visit  to  the  Canadian  Club  of  that 
city.  War  books  are  still  in  large  demand  in 
Toronto,  and  there  is  a  growing  supply  of,  and 
interest  in,  books  dealing  with  the  problems 
of  reconstruction,  but  the  literature  of  this 
class  is  in  a  tentative  state,  and  has  not  ap- 
parently produced  any  permanent  master- 
pieces. *  The  new  interest  in  poetry,  especially 
in  the  form  of  anthologies,  was  cited  by  Mr. 
Tyrrell  as  an  evidence  of  the  broadening  of 
popular  taste. 

Canadian  Anglican  Leaders 

"Leaders  of  the  Canadian  Church,"  a  col- 
lection of  biographical  sketches  of  ten  departed 
bishops  of  the  Church  of  England  in  Canada, 
proceeding  from  as  many  pens  but  all  edited 
by  Canon  Bertal  Heeney,  is  obviously  intended 
purely  for  circulation  within  the  membership 
of  that  communion,  since  the  term  "Canadian 
Church"  is  used  in  an  esoteric  sense  which 
would  not  be  accepted  by  any  other  body.  It 
is  an  interesting  but  very  uneven  compilation, 
ranging  from  the  brief  and  finely  critical  and 
historical  study  of  Bishop  Strachan  by  the  Ref- 
erence Librarian  of  the  Winnipeg  Public  Lib- 
rary to  the  somewhat  verbose  and  excessably 
affectionate  tributes  to  recently  departed  dig- 

nitaries by  personal  friends.  At  a  time  when 
the  whole  question  of  the  episcopate  of  the 
Church  of  England  in  Canada — of  its  selection, 
its  position,  its  authority  and  its  personal  pres- 
tige— is  up  for  serious  consideration,  such  a 
volume,  however,  far  from  perfection,  must 
serve    a    useful    purpose.      (Musson,   Toronto, 

Persons  desiring  to  form  their  own  opinion 
on  the  military  abilities  of  Foch  have  about 
thirty  books  of  biography  or  impressions  by 
his  friends  and  others,  his  own  work  on  War- 
fare, and  literally  hundreds  of  magazine  ar- 
ticles to  select  from.  It  is  evident  that  the 
public  is  by  no  means  tired  of  the  subject  of 
military  tactics. 



January,  1919. 

Norman  Duncan's  Last  Word  Hughes'  Unpardonable  Sin 

THE  late  Norman  Duncan,  whose  two  pos- 
North,"  and  "Battles  Royal  Down 
thuinous  volumes,  "Harbour  Tales  Down 
North"  have  just  been  published  in  Canada  by 
Thomas  Allen,  was  probably  the  most  accom- 
plished and  technically  finished  teller  of  tales 
that  Canada  has  ever  produced.  The  short 
stories  reprinted  in  these  two  volumes  are 
striking  examples  of  what  can  be  done  with 
the  flimsiest  materials  by  an  assured  art  and 
an  intense  concentration  on  the  one  effect  de- 
sired. The  craftsmanship  here  exhibited  en- 
titles the  writer  to  be  admitted,  for  compari- 
son at  any  rate,  into  the  most  select  company 
of  the  masters  of  the  short  story,  not  on  this 
continent  alone,  not  in  English  alone,  but  in 
any  language.  To  young  Canadians  seeking 
to  learn  how  to  write  we  commend  an  earnest 
perusal  of  these  two  volumes  of  tales,  not  be- 
cause they  are  the  greatest  examples  avail- 
able, but  because  they  are  undeniably  great 
in  respect  of  their  art,  and  noble  in  their  con- 
ception, and  because  the  man  who  wrote  them 
was  a  Brantford  boy,  a  Toronto  University 
graduate,  a  worker  for  a  time  on  Canadian 
newspapers,  and  because  (as  the  biographical 
note  in  the  volumes  informs  us)  he  never, 
though  he  spent  most  of  his  adidt  life  in  the 
United  States,  abandoned  his  citizenship  in 
the  Dominion.  An  admirable  portrait  is  in- 
cluded in  each  book.  (Thomas  Allen,  Toronto, 
$1.35  each). 

Who's  Who  In  America 

The  tenth  volume  of  "Who's  Who  in  Am- 
erica," for  the  years  1918  and  1918,  has  been 
issued  by  A.  N.  Marquis  &  Co.,  Chicago,  (price 
six  dollars).  It  contains  22,968  sketches,  of 
which  3,191  sketches  have  not  appeared  in 
previous  issues.  While  remarkably  complete 
in  covering  of  names  of  Americans  who  are  in 
any  sense  in  the  public  eye,  this  work  is 
strictly  selective  in  that  particular  nobody  who 
is  not  entitled  to  serve  men  of  public  interest 
is  admitted  to  its  columns.  Persons  who  have 
been  in  the  public  eye  by  virtue  solely  of  some 
official  position,  and  who  have  since  retired 
from  that  position  are  mentioned,  who  merely 
with  bare  reference  to  the  previous  volume  in 
their  biography  may  he  found.  "Who's  Who 
in  America,"  does  not  make  any  special  ef- 
fort to  cover  the  Canadian  field,  but  it  is  as- 
tonishing to  note  what  a  large  number  of 
these  prominent  Americans  have  their  birth- 
place in  the  Dominion  of  Canada.  And  ab- 
solutely priceless  feature  of  the  Bookman, 
which  we  had  not  remembered  noticing  in 
any  similar  publication  is  a  geographical  in- 
dex by  which  all  the  entitled  persons  living 
in  any  particular  city  or  town  of  the  United 
States  can  be  found  grouped  under  the  name  of 
their  place  of  residence. 

Let  Mr.  Theodore  Roosevelt  stick  to  poli- 
ties. When  he  says  Rupert  Hughes'  "The  Un- 
pardonable Sin"  is  a  "very,  very  strong 
book" — and  he  does  say  so  on  the  cover — he 
apparently  means  "strong"  in  the  sense  that 
perfumes  and  meats  may  have  the  quality.  The 
book  is  more  than  strong :  it  is  high.  Of  course 
as  propaganda  intended  to  rouse  the  sentimen- 
tal American  into  Hun-hating  it  is  perhaps 
effective.  That  may  he  why  Roosevelt  liked 
it.  But  as  literature,  even  as  entertainment 
— open  the  door! 

Once  upon  a  time  Rupert  Hughes  did  some 
fairish  things  about  New  York  shop-girls,  but 
he  has  made  himself  a  mere  peddler  of  thrills 
for  maiden  intelligences  that  wallow  in  mor- 
bid sex  stuff  under  the  pretence  of  facing  the 
truth  about  life.  The  Bryce  report  needed  no 
dressing  up.  Surely  respectable  matrons  of 
forty  with  grown  daughters  don't  have  to  bear 
children  to  the  German  army,  in  order  that 
American  sewing  circles  may  be  moved  to  con- 
demn the  German  cause.  Mr.  Hughes  places 
himself  in  the  unenviable  position  of  a  man 
who,  merely  because  it  may  have  been  true, 
tells  an  unpardonable  story  to  decent  com- 

The  Crack  In  The  Bell 

Primed  as  one  has  been  from  one's  cradle 
with  the  notion  that  Philadelphia  is  slow,  one 
receives  something  of  a  shock  at  the  impetuous 
rush  of  Mr.  Peter  Clark  Macfarlane 's  latest 
novel,  "The  Crack  in  the  Bell,"  which  deals 
with  the  iniquition  of  Philadelphia  politico, 
until  they  are  revolutionized  in  two  short  years 
by  a  vigorous  young  amateur  reformer  yclept 
Jerry  Archer.  Perhaps  it  is  needless  to  say  that 
Jerry  has  red  hair.  Modern  fiction  so  unvary- 
ingly presents  either  a  hero  or  heroine  with  red 
hair,  that  one  begins  to  feel  that  much-maligned 
color  for  tresses  has  at  last  come  into  its  own. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  one  wishes  Mr.  Macfarlane 
wouldn't  go  quite  so  fast.  For  instance,  be- 
tween pages  137  and  444,  he  forgets  the  name 
of  the  heroine's  favorite  aunt,  and  changes  her 
from  Stella  to  Letitia  without  even  a  "by  your 
leave."  It  must  have  taken  Mr.  Macfarlane  at 
least  three  hours,  even  at  his  rate  of  speed,  with 
his  trusty  typewriter,  to  turn  out  that  much 
fiction.  So  lie  may  be  forgiven  for  his  forget- 
fulness,  but  it  is  rather  hard  on  the  "gentle 
reader" — mixes  one  up  so.  And  also,  in  his 
flair  for  speed,  he.  in  at  least  two  instances, 
refers  to  someone's  "flare"  for  a  subject. 
"The  Crack  in  the  Bell"  is  an  eminently  read- 
able tale  of  love  and  politics,  which  will  give 
two  or  three!  hours  of  good  entertainment. 
Quite  the  best  chapters  are  those  in  which  Jerry 
makes  an  ingenious  application  of  the  "Liberty 
Bond"  idea  to  his  private  business. 

January.  L919. 


Notes  of  the  Newest  Books 

Canfield,  Dorothy.  "Home  Fires  in  France." 
A  sympathetic  account,  by  one  of  America's 
most  charming  and  individual  novelists,  of 
the  work  of  the  French  people— old  men,  old 
and  young  women,  and  children — who  kept 
the  home  fires  burning  in  France  during  the 
four  years,  and  of  some  Americans  who  helped. 
Told  in  brief  sketches,  with  vividness  and  re- 
straint— both  qualities  needed  by  the  tragic 
horror  of  some  of  the  subjects.  (Copp,  Clark 
Co.,  Toronto.) 

"Centurion":  "Gentlemen  at  Arms."  Twen- 
ty short  tales  of  experience  at  the  front,  writ- 
ten by  a  British  officer  who  "makes  no  claims 
.  .  .  .  to  be  considered  a  writer  of  fic- 
tion," but  has  acquired  a  wide  reputation  for 
his  skill  in  recording  the  actions,  words  and 
thoughts  of  British  soldiers  in  action.  Several 
of  the  tales  are  wonderful  tributes  to  the 
faith  and  nobility  that  sustain  such  men  in  the 
hour  of  deepest  trial.  (McClelland,  Goodchild 
&    Stewart,    Toronto,    $1.40l) 

Chohnondeley,  Mary:  "Under  One  Roof." 
An  autobiographical  study  of  family  life  in  an 
English  country  personage  forty  years  ago,  by 
the  sympathetic  author  of  "Red  Pottage."  A 
wonderful  group  of  portraits,  the  most  won- 
derful of  the  lot  being  "Ninny,"  the  family 
nurse,  who  was  sixty  years  in  service,  used 
to  give  costly  presents  to  the  children,  and 
left  $10,000  at  her  death,  and  who  was  "in  the 
best  sense  a  lady,  well-bred  ....  refined, 
dignified.  I  have  never  seen  her  shy,  or  abashed 
or  forward  in  manner."  (Dent,  Toronto, 

Dawson,  Lt.  Coningsby:  "Out  to  Win."  This 
is  "the  story  of  America  in  France,"  written 
by  the  well-known  literary  man  and  son  of 
the  Rev.  W.  J.  Dawson.  It  is-  propagandist 
in  tone,  intended  largely  to  promote  a  better 
understanding  between  English  and  Ameri- 
cans. (Gundy,  Toronto,  $1.25.) 

Doyle,  Sir  A.  Conan:  "The  British  Cam- 
paign in  France  and  Flanders,  1916."  The 
third  volume  of  this  able  author's  History  of 
the  "War  is  given  almost  entirely  to  the  Battle 
of  the  Somme,  with  a  single  subsequent  chap- 
ter on  the  Battle  of  the  Ancre.  It  has  passed 
through  three  censorships,  and  all  personal 
names  save  casualties  or  High  Command  have 
been  eliminated;  but  it  is  the  first  publication 
to  give  the  exact  identity  of  the  units  engaged. 
These  regimental  references  are  very  fully  in- 
dexed, and  32  of  the  references  are  to  specific 
Canadian  troops.  The  maps  are  admirable. 
(Musson,  Toronto.) 

Durkin,  Douglas  Leader:  "The  Fighting 
Men  of  Canada."  A  volume  of  spirited  verse, 
sufficiently  regular  in  rhyme  and  rhythm  and 
sufficiently  obvious  in  intent  to  have  a  good 
chance  of  popularity.  Mr.  Service  should  be 
proud  of  Mr.  Durkin.  who  evidently  comes  also 
from    the    West,    and   probably    from    British 

Columbia.     (McClelland,  Goodchild  and  Stew 
art,  Toronto,  $1.00.) 

Ely,  Richard     T.:   "The   World    War    and 
Leadership  in  a  Democracy."     A  new  volume 
in  the  Citizen's  Library  of  Economics,  Politics 
ami  Sociology,  a  series  edited  by  Professor  Ely 
himself.  A  brilliant  contrasting  of  German  and 
American  mentality,  by  one  of  America's  fore 
most   thinkers,    in    which    is    developed    very 
clearly  the  thesis  that  the  great  need  of  democ 
racy  in  America  (to  which  we  add  Canada)  is 
the  institution  of  Leadership — the  power  of  se- 
lecting, training,  following  and  eventually  re 
placing  leaders — the   exact  opposite   of  dema- 
gogy.     The   book    is   short,    but  contains   sug- 
gestive hints  on   how  Leadership  may  be   de 
veloped,  education  being,  of  course,  the  chief 
factor.      (Macmillan,    Toronto,    $1.50). 

Flatt,  W.  D.:  "The  Making  of  a  Man." 
Dedicated  to  the  twenty-eight  boys  in  the  au- 
thor's Sunday  School  Class  at  Port  Nelson. 
Ont.  The  story  of  a  pioneer  from  the  Orkney 
Islands,  who  came  to  Canada  in  the  'fifties. 
Should  interest  boys  and  give  them  a  more 
vivid  sense  of  the  beginnings  of  modern  Can- 
ada.    (Briggs,  Toronto.) 

Henderson,  Rt.  Hon.  Arthur:  "The  Aims 
of  Labour."  A  statement  of  the  policy  of  the 
Henderson  party,  in  a  handy  papercovered 
pamphlet  of  128  pages.  "Never,"  says  "The 
Public,"  "have  the  privileged  classes  been  ad- 
dressed in  terms  so  peremptory  and  unmistak- 
able, and  in  language  so  well  adapted  to  their 
understanding."  (McClelland.  Goodchild  & 
Stewart,  Toronto.) 

Irwin,  Will:  "A  Reporter  at  Armageddon." 
Because  he  is  not  ashamed  of  being  a  reporter, 
Will  Irwin  is  able  to  do  good  stuff  about  even 
so  big  an  assignment  a  Armageddon.  His  pic- 
turesque narratives  are  still  very  readable  in 
■  spite  of  the  war  being  over.  (Goodchild,  To- 
ronto, $1.50.) 

Kemmerer,  Edwin  Walter:  "The  A  B  C  of 
the  Federal  Reserve  System."  A  detailed 
but  (even  to  the  amateur)  intelligible  study 
of  the  effect  of  the  introduction  of  the  Fed- 
eral Reserve  System  in  American  banking,  by 
Princeton's  Professor  of  Economics  and  Fin- 
ance. The  Act  itself  as  amended,  with  an  ex- 
haustive index,  and  several  other  related  fin- 
ancial documents,  is  appended,  (Princeton 
University  Press,  Princeton,  N.J..  $1.50.) 

Kennedy,  G.  A.  Studdert :  "Rough  Rhymes 
of  a  Padre."  Sincere,  original  and  vigorous 
verse,  expressive  of  the  new  attitude  towards 
God  resulting  from  the  war.  by  a  fighting 
parson  known  among  his  men  as  "Woodbine 
Willie."  A  worthwhile  example  of  the-  new 
war  verse.   (Musson.  Toronto.  $1.00). 

le  Goffic,  Charles:  "General  Foch  at  the 
Marne."  A  translation  by  Lucy  Menzies  of 
the  French  work  entitled  "Les  Marais  de  St. 
Gond,"   dealing   with    the    six   days'    fighting 



•January.  1919. 

which  succeeded  the  arrest  of  the  German  ad- 
vance in  September,  1914,  and  saved  the  world 
from  Teutonization.  A  fine  story,  told  by  a 
military  expert  with  literary  vividness.  (Dent. 

Lewisohn,  Ludwig:  "The  Poets  of  Modern 
France.'"  Headers  interested  in  the  develop- 
ment of  modern  verse,  but  unable  for  lack  of 
French  to  consult  the  anthologies  of  France 
itself,  will  find  value  in  the^e  remarkably  hap- 
py and  tasteful  renderings  by  an  Ohio  State 
University  professor,  tjut  'the  fact  remains 
that  the  more  modern  poetry  becomes  the  less 
can  it  be  translated.  The  translations  are  pre- 
ceded  by  an  interesting  essay  on  the  sources 
of  the  New  Poetry  and  the  principles  and  me- 
thods embodied  in  it.  Mr.  Lewisohn  is  quite 
"•rmderfullv  sympathetic'.  (Dent,  Toronto, 

Lowell,  Amy:  "Can  Grande's  Castle."  The 
very  latest  in  "polyphonic  prose,"  which  is 
poetry,  but  is  typeset  prose-wise,  and  includes 
"rhyme,  assonance,  alliteration  and  return." 
The  preface  is  a  highly  interesting  statement 
of  purpose  and  method.  As  to  the  four 
"poems,"  opinion  will  be  divided.  That  they 
possess  in  places  the  prose  merit  of  eloquence 
none  will  deny.  But  is  this  method  ap- 
plicable to  a  "poem"  50  pages  long?  (Mac- 
millan,  Toronto,  $1.50.) 

Mackenzie,  Compton:  "Sylvia  Scarlett." 
Another  volume  of  the  wildly  fantastic  adven- 
tures which  Mr.  Mackenzie,  by  dint  of  extreme 
rapidity  of  narration  and  extreme  vivacity  of 
characterization  manages  to  make  plausible 
even  to  critical  readers.  It  might  just  as  well 
have  been  called  "Carnival  the  Second."  One 
does  not  recollect  ever  meeting  any  French- 
English  actresses  quite  so  impetuously  irre- 
sponsible as  Sylvia,  but  one  wishes  one  could. 
No  other  English  author  could  make  a  per- 
fectly good  joke  about  a  lavatory,  as  Mr. 
.Mackenzie  does,  except  perhaps  George  Moore. 
and  if  he  made  it  it  would  not  be  a  joke. 

Marcosson,  Isaac  F. :  "The  Business  of 
War."  A  popular  explanation  of  all  that  side 
of  the  operations  of  an  army  in  the  field  which 
is  not  included  in  actual  fighting — supplies, 
transportation,  salvage,  storage,  accounting. 
With  a  closing  chapter  eulogizing  "  North- 
cliff  e — Insurgent."  Written  for  the  Ameri- 
can public,  but  dealing  with  the  British  army. 
(Dent,  Toronto,  $1.50.) 

McGillicuddy,  Owen  E.:  "The  Little  Mar- 
shal and  Other  Poems."  Some  40  pages  of 
unassuming  verse — half-a-dozen  war  poems  and 
the  remainder  devoted  to  the  joys  of  domes- 
ticity. Occasionally,  as  in  "Comfort,"  Mr. 
McGillicuddy  catches  the  really  universal  note 
of  a  true  and  unaffected  simplicity.  Usually  he 
is  off  after  something  much  more  ambitious, 
and  sometimes  he  tries  to  be  simple  and  fails  to 
lie  more  than  commonplace.  (F.  D.  Goodchild, 

Moorhouse,  Hopkins:  "Deep  Furrows." 
The  romantic  history  of  the  Grain  Growers' 
movement  in  Western  Canada,  told  in  full  de- 
tail with  distinct  propagandist  motive,  by  a 
skilful  writer  of  fiction,  and  economics.  It 
touches  some  controversial  matters,  and  will 
not  meet  with  universal  agreement,  but  it  is 
worth  reading  by  anybody  interested  in 
the  future  of  Canada.  (McLeod,  Toronto, 

Pollard,  Harold:  "Aero  Engines,  Magnetos 
and  Carburetors."  A  very  neat  pocket  vol- 
ume, with  lucid  descriptions  and  plenty  of 
diagrams.  Just  the  thing  for  the  beginner  in 
aviation.  The  author  is  with  the  Air  Service 
in    Toronto.      (Macmillan,   Toronto,  $1.25.) 

Strunsky,  Simeon:  "Little  Journeys  To- 
wards Paris,  1914-1918:  A  Guide  Book  for 
Confirmed  Tourists  by  W.  Hohenzollern." 
Route  I.  is  "From  Liege  to  Paris  by  Way  of 
the  Marne,  the  Was,  and  the  Ain't."  There 
are  twelve  others,  and  some  side  excursions. 
Mr.  Strunsky  has  worked  hard  on  a  thin  idea. 
(Goodchild,  Toronto,  75c.) 

Strunsky,  Simeon:  "Professor  Latimer's 
Progress."  If  this  is  America's  "Mr.  Brit- 
ling."  as  has  been  claimed  by  some,  the  dif- 
ference between  literary  England  and  literary 
America  is  vividly  exemplified.  It  is  the  dif- 
ference between  a  great  and  carefully  laboured 
canvass  and  a  rather  frivolous  sketch.  We  do 
not  think  the  Strunsky  book  deserves  so  high 
a  parallel.  It  is  more  in  the  line  of  an  A.  C. 
Benson  ramble  without  the  Benson  culture. 
(McClelland,   Goodchild   &   Stewart.   $1.40.) 

Tarkington,  Booth:  "The  Magnificent  Am- 
bersons. "  Another  of  Mr.  Tarkington 's  won- 
derfully understanding  studies  of  the  Ameri- 
can juvenile;  quite  serious  this  time,  with  re- 
flections upon  the  mis-education  of  the  gilded 
youth  of  the  "best  families,"  but  very  amus- 
ing for  all  that,  with  its  pictures  of  social  life 
in  an  American  small  city.  (Briggs,  Toronto, 

Thomas,  Hartley  Munro  (R.A.F.)  :  "Songs 
of  an  Airman  and  Other  Poems."  With  an  In- 
troduction by  S.  W.  Dyke,  D.Sc,  LL.D.,  Prin- 
cipal of  Queen's  Theological  College,  Kingston, 
Ont.  Comparing  the  dates  appended  to  some 
of  these  poems  and  those  given  in  Principal 
Dyde's  sketch,  we  find  that  many  were  writ- 
ten at  the  age  of  16.  The  wisdom  of  publishing 
them  is  open  to  question.  In  the  aviation 
poems,  which  are  naturally  later,  there  is  evi- 
dence of  considerable  technical  improvement 
and  a  fine  sincerity  of  feeling.  With  proper 
self-criticism  and  a  due  amount  of  labour  this 
writer,  who  undoubtedly  has  something  to 
say.  will  give  us  verse  to  be  reckoned  with. 
Already,  in  "The  Soninie"  and  in  parts  of 
"The  First  Who  Came,"  he  touches  achieve- 
ment. (McClelland,  Goodchild  &  Stewart,  To- 

»  *_/L.U  Ull,       1 

60c.  a  Copy 

APRIL.   1919 

$1.50  a  Year 


d_Ji  tl_Ji 

"Canadian  Poets  and  the  Great  War" 



Books  Worth  While  for  Young  and  Old 

THE    "LAST    CALL"    FOB    SOME    OP    THE    CLASSICS      WRITTEN     DURING      THE      WAR.  EVERY 

STUDENT     OP      TO-DAY     AND     IN      YEARS      TO    COME     WILL     FIND     THE     FOLLOWING     OP     IN- 

"Under  Fire" 

The   Great   French   Real- 
istic  Novel 

By   Henri   Barbusse. 

(Cloth    $1.75) 

"The   Four   Horse- 
men    of    the 
Apocalypse ' ' 

The  Great  War  Novel 
written  by  the  noted 


Now  in   its  SSth   Edition. 
(Cloth  $1.90) 

"The  New  Book  of 
Martyrs. ' ' 

A  beautiful  and  touch- 
ing series  of  studies 
which  ensures  an  indis- 
putable place  among  the 
permanent  masterpieces 
inspired  by  the  war. 
By  G.  Duhamel. 
(Cloth  $1.75) 

"Marching  on 

The  classic  on  the 
African  Campaign  — 
more  fascinating  than  a 
novel. — Second  edition. 

By    P.    E.    Young. 

(Cloth    $1.75) 


"The  Story  of  My 

The  Rt.  Hon.  Sir  Edward 
Clarke,  K.C. 

A  candid  record  of  a 
wonderful  and  pictur- 
esque career. 

(Cloth    $5.00) 

Ready  about  March  31st 


By  Peter  McArthur. 

A  popular  appreciation  of  the  great  States- 
man and  his  work. 

200  pages.      Cloth  SI. 00. 

"Prime  Ministers  & 
Some  Others." 

A    Book    of    Reminescen- 

By    the    Rt.    Hon.    G.    W. 
E.   Russell. 

(Cloth    $5.00) 


"Gone  to  Earth" 

By  Mary  Webb. 
(Cloth  $1.50) 
"She  (Mary  Webb)  is  a  genius, 
and  I  shouldn't  mind  wagering 
that  she  is  going  to  be  the  most 
distinguished  writer  of  our  gen- 
eration."— N.T.    "Sun." 

"The  White  Island" 

By   Michael   Wood. 
(Cloth   $1.50) 
A  story  of  unusual   and  arrest- 
ing   quality.       It    has    special    re- 
ference  to  the  actions  and  of  the 

"Before  the  Wind" 

i  Wrack-Straws) 
By   Janet   Laing. 
(Cloth   $1.50) 
A   novel   of   freshness  and   orig- 
inality   in    which    whimsical    hum- 
our   is    combined    with    a    double- 
barrelled    detective    story. 

"The  War  Eagle" 

By   W.   J.   Dawson. 

(Cloth   $1.50) 

The    author    of    "Robert    Shen- 

stone"    more    than    maintains    his 

reputation     in     this        fascinating 


"The  Little   Daughter   of 

By  Myriam  Harry. 
(Cloth  $1.90) 
A  translation  of  a  remarkable 
book  about  Jerusalem,  showing  a 
clear  picture  of  every-day  life 
there.  The  story  is  full  of  vivid 
touches  of  real  and  aiiventuroua 

"The  Pathetic  Snohs" 

By   Dolf   Wyllarde. 

(Cloth  $1.50) 
It  has  remaiirc.-!  for  Dolf  Wyl- 
larde, with  characteristic  orig- 
inality to  penetrate  the  outer 
crust  and  discover  a  quite  over- 
looked ingredient  of  the  snob- 


' '  Illusions  &  Realities  of  the 

By    Francis    Grierson. 

(Cloth   $1.25) 

Author  of  "The  Invincible  Al- 
liance. One  of  the  most  highly 
praised   books   of  the   war. 

"Handicraft  for  Boys" 

By  A.  P.  Collins. 
(Cloth    $1.50) 
Fully   illustrated.   How  to  make 
practical       things      with        simple 

"Spunyarn   and   Spindrift" 

By   Norah   Holland. 
(Cloth   $1.00) 

A  volume  of  verse  by  a  cousin 
of  W.  B.  Yeats,  but  who  was 
born  and  still  lives  in  Canada, 
which    is   indeed   a   classic. 

"Business  of  War" 

By   Isaac   Marcosson. 

(Cloth    $1.50.       Fully   Illustrated) 

One  of  the  most  useful  refer- 
ence books  arising  out  of  the 
Great    War. 

"In  the  Days  of  the  Guild" 

By    Lamprey. 
(Cloth   $1.50) 

Beautifully  illustrated  in  color 
and  black  and  white.  A  most 
charming  book  for  both  boys  and 



"Lighted  Windows" 

By  Dr.   Frank   Crane. 
(Cloth    $1.25) 

Good  cheer  and  comfort  in 
plenty  are  to  be  found  in  this  es- 
timable  volume. 

"Inventing  for  Boys" 

By  A.  P.  Collins. 

Cloth    $1.50.       Fully    Illustrated.) 
A    practical    book    for    boys    de- 
siring   to    invent. 

"The  Coming  Dawn" 

A    War    Anthology    in    Prose    and 

By    Theodora    Thompson. 
(Cloth    $1.75) 
A    book    that    we     cannot     too 
highly   recommend. 

We  have  a  wonderful  range  of  high-class  and  up-to-date  books  on  varied  subjects.  Let  us  place 
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A  Quarterly  devoted  to  Literature,  the  Library  and  the  Printed    Book. 

B.  K.  SANDWELL,        -        -        -        EDITOR 


J.  A.  DALE,  Professor  of  Education,  McGill  University 
H.  T.  FALK,  Lecturer  on  Social  Service,  McGill  Uni- 

•  versity. 

HON.  W.  S.  FIELDING,  Editor  Canadian  Journal  of 
Commerce,  formerly  Finance  Minister  of  the  Domin- 
ion of  Canada. 

J.  M.  GIBBON,  General  Advertising  Agent  C.  P.  R., 
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•  tional  Press. 

R.  E.  HORE,  Editor  Canadian  Mining  Journal. 
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W.    LOCHHEAD,     Professoi    of   Biology,    Agricultural 
Dept.,  McGill  University. 

GEORGE  H.  LOCKE,  Chiet  Librarian.  Toronto  Public 

O.  D.  SKELTON,  Professor  of  Political  Science,  Queens 

A.    STANSFIELD,    Professor    of    Metallurgy,    McGill 
University,  Editor  "Iron  and  Steel. 

J.  N.  STEPHENSON,  Editor  Pulp  and  Paper  Magazine 
W.  LAIRD  TURNER,  Editor  Canadian  Textile  Journal. 
CAPTAIN  F.  WILLIAM  WALLACE,  Editor  Canadian 


Ste.  Anne  de  Bellevue,  P.Q.,  April,  1919 

$1.50  PER  ANNUM 



Editorial:  Standards  of  Criticism;  Free  Trade  in   Debasing   Literature   7 

The  Deluge  of  American  Magazines  in  '..'ana. la:  a  Symposium 10 

Contribute. 1  by  Arthur  L.  Phelps,  Mary  J.   L.   Black,  J.  Castell  Hopkins  and  , 

Frank    Wise    ' 12 

Canadian  Poets  of  the  Great  War,  by  W.  D.  Lighthall   14 

Literary  Convention,  by  J.  E.  Middleton 22 

Free  Verse  and  the  Parthenon,   by   Ramsay   Traquair    23 

Little  Grey  Mother,  by  J.  M.  Gibbon  .....' 26 

Some   Canadian   Illustrators,   by   St.   George   Burgoyne   27 

First  Aid  to  Songsmiths,  by  J.   A.  McNeil   31 

On  the  Deterioration  of  Literary  Style  After  Death,  by  B.  K.  Sandwell   32 

Free  Verse,  by  Arthur  L.   Phelps    36 

v/    The  Real  Reason  for  Un-Bookishness  in  Canada,  by   "Professor's  Wife" 37 

Wasted   Nights,  by   Elsie   A.   Gidlow   38 

What   is   Poetry?   by  Alfred    Gordon    39 

A  Dream  of  Japanese  Prints,  by   Edith   Wherry    46 

The  ' '  Colynm ' '  in  Canada,  by  Ben  Deacon  47 

A  Canadian  Spring  Song,  by  Esther  W.  Kerry 53 

Reading  Aloud  in  the  Family,  by  Nina  Pearce   54 

V  Play- Writing  in  Canada,  by  Harcourt  Farmer    55 

Sir  Gilbert  Parker 's  ' '  Wild  Youth  and  Another  "   57 

Books  About  the  Forest,  by  .1.  N.  Stephenson   58 

The  New  Partnership  in  Industry,  by  O.  D.  Skelton   62 

The  late  Eben  Pieken,  by  St.  George  Burgoyne 63 

William  Wilfred  Campbell,  by  W.  T.  Allison   65 

The   Foundation    of    Modern    Belgian    Literature    66 

Three  Novels  by  Ibanez,  by  J.  Poynter  Bell   67 

What  Every  Canadian  Ought  to  Know,  by  W.  S.  Wallace   69 

Monotones,"  by  S.  Morgan  Powell    70 

Work  for  the   Anthologist,   by   Alfred   Gordon    73 

God,  Conduct  and  Revelation,  by  .1.  E.   Ward    78 

The  Pioneers,  by  J.  A.  Dale 

The  Author  of  ' '  Sonia, ' '  by  J.  E.  Ward vl 

Reviews   &   Notes  of   New   Books    81 

Contributors   to   the    April   Number 

Best  Sellers  of  the  Season 89 


THE  CANADIAN  BOOKMAN  is  published  quarterly  by  the  Industrial  &  Educational  Press  Limited,  at  the  Garden 

City  Press,  Ste.  Anne  de  Bellevue,  P.Q. 

J.  J.  HARPELL,  President  and  Managing  Director 
A.  LONGWELL,  Vice-President 

Copyright,  Canada,  1918,  by  the  Industrial  &  Educational  Press,  Limited 

A.  S.  CHRISTIE,  Eastern  Manager, 

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1402  C.P.R.  Building,  Toronto 


April.  1019. 

My  Three  Years 

in  a 

German  Prison 

By    Hon.    Henri    S.    Beland,    M.D., 

Dr.  Beland  was  one  of  the  most 
notable  public  men  held  by  the 
Germans  during  the  war.  His  ar- 
rest after  promises  of  immunity 
and  his  position  as  surgeon  in  one 
of  the  largest  prisons  in  Berlin, 
gave  him  unparalleled  opportuni- 
ties of  observation.  His  story  is 
epoch-making  and  will  be  highly 
appreciated  in  every  Canadian 
home-library.  Strikingly  illus- 
trated with  photographs  brought 
out  of  Germany  before  the  sign- 
ing of  armistice $1.50 


of  the 


Thanks  be  to  God 

Who  Giveth  Us 
The  Victory 

By  Arthur  Mee. 

Not  War.  but  Victory,  is  the 
theme  of  this  remarkable  book, 
which  traces  the  trend  of  events 
in  Britain  from  the  beginning  of 
things  to  the  end  of  the  author's 
imagination.  It  is  a  wonderful 
summing-up  of  present-day  con- 
ditions and  tendencies  by  one 
whose  recent  books  have  proved 
to  be  a  remarkably  sane  and  gift- 
ed prophet $1.35. 

Your    Bookseller 

can  supply  these 

and  others  of 

our  Books. 



A  compilation  of  the  verse,  letters  and  a  bio- 
graphy  of  the   late  Col.   John   McCrae. 

This  strikingly-Canadian  book,  with  its  collec- 
tion of  beautiful  verse  and  a  note-worthy  bio- 
graphy of  a  Canadian  whose  name  has  rung 
round  the  earth,  promises  to  be  the  biggest-sell- 
ing book  of  the  year.  It  is  a  beautifully-made 
volume  in  striking  aesthetic  format,  with  deckle- 
edges  and  gilt  top.  Three  or  four  characteristic 
illustrations  of  the  poet  are  strong  features.  $1.50. 

Browse    in    your 


shop — '  Twill  do 

you    both 


The  Cabin 

By  V.  Blasco  Ibanez. 

Tou  read  "The  Four  Horsemen 
of  the  Apocalypse"  with  apprecia- 
tion. You  will  be  immediately  in- 
terested, then,  in  this  some  ways 
astonishing  book  by  the  same 
author.  With  its  scenes  laid  in 
sunny  and  legendary  Spain,  and 
with  its  story  told  with  an  art 
scarcely  approached  by  any  living 
writer,  it  is  held  by  the  critics  as 
one  of  the  great  novels  of  the 
year - 




Moon  of  Israel 

Here  is  another  of  Sir  H.  Rid- 
er  H:i.e:gard's  typical  and  interest- 
holding  Eastern  stories.  The  plot 
is  set  in  Egypt  at  the  time  of  the 
Exodus,  and  centres  around  the 
love  of  Seti.  a  son  of  the  Phar- 
ohs.  for  Merapi.  "Moon  of  Israel." 
a  beautiful  maiden  of  the  He- 
brews.  The  book,  is  full  of  ad- 
venture. Egyptian  lore,  and  local 
color $1.50. 



APRIL,  1919 

Standards  of  Criticism 

Arc  you  going  to  have  various  standards  oJ 
criticism — for  European,  American,  Canadian, 
Ontario,  Montreal,  productions!  And  how  are 
your  readers  going  to  tell  which  standard  you 

are  applying  to  ,  for  instance?-   Ex  trad 

from   a    letter   of   a    sympathetic    friend   of   the 
( 'anadian   Bookman. 

FOK  the  heartening  of  trembling  authors, 
the  enlightenment  of  inquisitive  readers, 
the  clarification  of  our  own  principles  even  to 
our  own  mind,  let  us  hasten  to  declare,  irrevoc- 
ably in  black  ami  white,  in  this  our  second  issue, 
that  we  are  indeed  going  to  have  various  stand- 
ards of  criticism,  and  that  we  can  imagine  do 
utility  or  vitality  or  reasonableness  in  a  criticism 
which  has  only  one  standard  and  seeks  to  apply 
it  indiscriminately  to  all  artistic  works. 

But  let  us  also  state,  as  clearly  as  may  he. 
how  those  various  standards  are  to  be  applied. 
The  selection  will  not  depend  upon  the  place  in 
which  the  author  resides.  We  know  of  no  rea- 
son why  an  inhabitant  of  Bobeaygeon  should  he 
encouraged  to  produce  literature  which  would 
be  censured  if  turned  out  by  a  citizen  of  Win- 
nipeg, nor  why  we  should  speak  kindly  of  a 
work  by  a  Haligonian  when  we  should  condemn 
that  same  work  if  executed  by  a  Bostonian  or 
an  Aberdonian.  That  is  not  the  idea  at  all.  It 
is  by  what  the  writer  is  trying  to  do  that  we 
propose  to  judge  him,  not  by  where  he  strives 
to  do  it.  In  this  sense  every  man's  work  eon- 
tains  its  own  yard-stick,  every  book  is  the  mete- 
wrand  of  its  own  success  or  failure.  The  ease  or 
difficulty  of  the  task  which  the  author  has  set 
himself,  the  amount  of  assistance  which  he  has 
received  from  his  literary  predecessors,  these 
are  considerations  which  must  be  borne  in  mind 
by  the  critic  who  is  endeavouring  to  form  a  just 
judgment  of  any  work  of  art.  And  they  are  of 
particular  importance  in  judging  an  art  which, 
like  the  literature  of  Canada,  is  avowedly  m 
a  pioneer  stage  of  its  existence. 

When  a  Canadian  writer  endeavors  to  express 
something  of  what  he  has  honestly  seen  and  dili- 
gently studied  in  the  social  or  psychological  or 
natural  phenomena  of  Canada,  we  propose  to 
extend  to  him  all  the  encouragement  that  we 
can.  lie  is  essaying  a  task  which  is  very  diffi- 
cult,  because  it  is  very  new.  We  shall  not  hold 
it  up  against  him  that  he  does  not  make  his 
novel,  if  it  be  a  novel,  as  interesting  to  the  uni- 

versal English-speaking  mind  as  those  of 
Thomas  Hardy  or  Henry  .lane  or  Hugh  Wal- 
pole  or  Galsworthy.     We  do  not,  in  the  present 

State  of   the   population,   wealth   and   intellectual 

development    of   this   country,   expect    to   find 

men  with  the  literary  skill  and  practiced  crafts- 
manship of  those  writers,  engaged  in  the  pro- 
duction of  Canadian  literature  any  more  than 
we  expect  to  find  artists  like  Brangwyn,  Zorn, 
Zuloaga,  Orpen  or  John  contributing  to  ''an- 
adian portraiture  or  landscape.  Even  if  we 
had  such  men  amongst  us  —  and  the  law  of 
mathematical  chance  is  against  it,  to  say  no- 
thing 'of  the  more  important  laws  of  environ- 
ment and  economic  inducement — they  would 
not  be  able  to  carry  a  purely  Canadian  art 
as  far  as  Galsworthy  or  Orpen  can  carry  their 
respective  British  arts,  because  they  would  have 
to  pick  it  up  at  a  much  more  primitive  stage  of 
development.  An  artist  obtains  both  his  ma- 
terials and  his  method  by  inheritance  from  his 
predecessors;  even  if  the  use  he  makes  of  his 
inheritance  is  to  react  from  it  most  violently, 
it  is  still  an  inheritance  imparting  a  character- 
istic quality  and  direction  to  his  art. 

Almost  the  first  beginnings  of  the  task  of  ex- 
pressing Canadians  to  themselves  in  literature 
and  the  arts,  and  of  expressing  the  world  in 
terms  of  a  Canadian  viewpoint,  still  remain  to 
be  essayed.  There  is  hardly  anything  for  an 
artist  to  inherit.  Not  only  have  we  done  little 
to  express  ourselves ;  we  have  scarcely  become 
conscious  of  our  own  existence  as  a  people  dif- 
ferent from  other  people,  and  acquired  thereby 
the  desire  for  self-expression.  Yet  to-day  we 
have  that  consciousness  and  that  desire,  and  it 
is  the  first  object  of  the  Canadian  Bookman  to 
stimulate  them  both,  and  to  encourage  the  ar- 
tistic effort  necessary  to  fulfil  that  desire. 
When,  therefore,  wre  find  Canadian  writers  try- 
ing to  express  Canada  to  Canadians,  and  the 
world  in  terms  of  the  Canadian  mind,  we  pro- 
pose to  remember  constantly  the  difficulty  of 
the  task  which  they  have  set  themselves,  the 
reluctance  of  a  material  so  little  handled  in  the 
past,  the  absence  of  tradition,  literary  associa- 
tion, the  "background"  afforded  by  the  r id 

ing  monuments  of  departed  generations.  We 
shall  not  ask  a  Robert  Stead  to  exhibit  the 
glamour  of  a  Stevenson,  nor  complain  because 
a  novel  about  London,  Out.,  lacks  the  historic 
richness  of  background  of  one  laid  in  London, 



April,  1919. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  our  Canadian  writer 
elects  to  turn  out  the  kind  of  stuff  that  could 
just  as  well  be  written  in  New  York  or  Mon- 
tana or  Clapham  or  Montmartre— if  he  throws 
his  Canadianism  overboard  altogether,  or  uses 
it  merely  to  give  splashes  of  strictly  commercial 
"local  color"'  to  tales  which  have  no  essential 
Canadian  qualities— if  he  writes  Montana  melo- 
dramas and  labels  them  Alberta,  or  Chicago 
social-problem  stuff  and  dates  it  Winnipeg— 
and  half  of  our  ablest  writers,  with  their  eye  on 
the  bigger  American  market,  are  doing  precise- 
ly this  thing— if  he  does  anything  like  this  he 
ceases  to  be  entitled  to  any  respect  as  a  pioneer 
of  Canadian  literature,  or  as  having  any  rela- 
tion to  Canadian  literature  at  all,  but  that  of 
a  deserter.  It  is  not  the  business  of  Canadian 
literature  to  hew  the  wood  of  instruction  or 
draw  the  water  of  entertainment  for  any  other 
people  whatsoever.  There  are  some  good  Am- 
erican novelists  and  some  good  English  (and 
Irish)  poets  dwelling  in  Canada  and  voting  at 
Canadian  elections,  but  they  are  not  Canadian 
novelists  or  poets,  and  they  will  receive  no  more 
consideration,  and  very  little  more  interest, 
\from  the  Canadian  Bookman  than  if  they  dwelt 
in  the  lands  to  which  they  address  their  writ- 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  we  deny  to  a  Can- 
adian writer  the  right  to  look  for  an  audience 
outside  of  Canada.  What  we  ask  is  that  he 
seek  first  to  express  himself  as  a  Canadian  for 
Canadians.  If  he  does  that  successfully — and  he 
can  never  do  it  successfully  unless  he  tries  to 
do  it — the  rest  will  be  added  unto  him.  The 
.  first  work  of  literature  of  Canadian  origin  to 
catch  the  ear  of  Europe  and  America  (it  is 
not  yet  a  century  old),  was  written  without  a 
thought  of  its  ever  being  read  beyond  the  circle 
of  the  subscribers  to  Joseph  Howe's  Halifax 
newspaper;  and  it  was  that  very  fact,  with  the 
sincerity  and  simplicity  and  directness  that  it 
involved,  which  made  it  capable  of  attracting 
the  world's  attention.  If  Judge  Haliburton  had 
deliberately  set  himself  to  write  a  book  for  the 
American  and  English  public  when  he  wrote 
"The  Clockmaker, "  he  would  indubitably  have 
failed.  The  author  who  writes  for  the  audience 
that  he  knows  and  belongs  to  has  some  chance 
of  achieving  a  larger  one ;  the  author  who  delib- 
erately writes  for  a  public  about  which  he  knows 
nothing  except  the  kind  of  thing  that  they  are 
accustomed  to  read,  will  never  get  an  audience 
for  himself  at  all,  for  he  cannot  be  anything 
more  than  an  imitator.  Canadians  writing  like 
Americans  or  Englishmen  will  never  produce 
a  Canadian,  or  any,  literature. 

Free  Trade  in  Debasing  Literature 

THE  idea  appears  to  be  firmly  rooted  in 
the  Canadian  mind  that  the  dissemina- 
tion of  any  kind  of  periodical  publica- 
tion (Bolsheviki  propaganda  of  course  exclud- 
ed) is  a  thing  in  itself  desirable,  and  in  no  wise 
to  be  interfered  with  or  discouraged  by  author- 
ity. With  that  idea  in  mind  we  have  for  gen- 
erations carried  newspapers  in  His  Majesty's 
Canadian  mails  at  a  rate  immensely  below  their 
proportionate  share  in  the  cost  of  the  postal 
service,  and  we  have  until  recent  years  been 
fairly  generous  also  to  weeklies  and  maga- 
zines. With  that  idea  equally  dominant,  we 
have  excluded  all  classes  of  periodical  printed 
matter  from  the  otherwise  universal  range  of 
our  protective  tariff,  and  have  invited  the  week- 
lies and  magazines  of  the  United  States  and  of 
any  other  country  to  enter  freely  and  make  this 
land  their  happy  hunting-ground ;  and  those 
of  the  United  States  have  accepted  the  invita- 
tion with  alacrity. 

It  might  be  worth  while  to  consider  what 
were  the  circumstances  and  conditions  which 
enabled  this  idea  to  take  root  in  a  country 
otherwise  so  wedded  to  the  protectionist  doc- 
trine and  the  policy  of  discouraging  the  efforts 
of  foreigners  to  sell  us  their  products.  What, 
for  instance,  was  the  character  of  the  typical 
periodical  or  magazine  at  the  time  when  we 
decided  that  periodicals  must  be  given  free 
access  to  Canada,  and  registered  that  decision 
among  the  list  of  things  that  we  should  not  have 
to  bother  with  again?  Was  it  anything  like 
the  average  American  magazine  of  to-day?  And 
if  there  are  differences,  are  they  such  as  to 
affect  the  validity  of  our  old-time  decision, — to 
make  it  uncertain  that,  if  we  had  the  whole 
question  up  for  consideration  and  settlement 
afresh  to-day,  we  should  decide  for  free  and 
undiscouraged  admission  with  anything  like 
the  same  positiveness  ? 

It  is  difficult  to  say  exactly  at  what  date  the 
idea  of  the  extreme  desirability  of  a  free  circu- 
lation of  printed  periodicals  of  non-Canadian 
origin  became  imbedded  in  the  Canadian  mind. 
It  was  certainly  not  there  after  the  war  of  1812, 
when  the  chief  concern  of  the  most  influential 
Canadians  was  lest  the  poison  of  republicanism 
should  leak  through  the  borders  and  destroy 
the  loyalty  of  the  colonies  to  Great  Britain.  It 
probably  entered  at  about  the  same  time,  and 
progressed  with  much  the  same  speed,  as  the 
idea  of  Responsible  Government — as  a  part  of 
the  great  mid-nineteenth  century  movement  to- 
wards freedom  both  of  thought  and  of  action. 
At  any  rate  it  was  sufficiently  established  by 

April,  1919, 



L876  to  ensure  that  the  free  admission  of  print- 
ed periodicals  should  be  continued  without  a 
question  when  the  admission  of  practically  everj 

other  kind  of  manufactured  product  was  made 
as  difficult  as  possible  in  order  to  afford  an 
opportunity  to  Canadians  to  manufacture  it 
at   home. 

What,  at  this  time,  was  the  character  of  the 
periodical  literature  which  was  thus  invited  to 
enter  Canada  from  outside?  The  great  hulk  of 
it  (excluding  newspapers,  which  are  not  con- 
cerned in  the  present  discussion  i  consisted  of 
copies  of  some  half-dozen  great  American  mag- 
azines. Most  of  them  are  still  in  existence  and 
retain  many  of  the  characteristics  of  dignity, 
sincerity,  artistic  purpose  and  ability  (and  a 
slight  sleepiness)  which  they  then  possessed; 
but  instead  of  being  the  monopolists  of  the 
bookseller's  magazine  tables  they  are  an  insig- 
nificant minority,  snowed  up  under  a  vast  mass 
of  "Ginger  Jars,"  "Snappy  Stories,"  "Paris- 
iennes"  and  "Spicy  Specimens."  They  sold 
for  twenty-five  cents  and  upwards  and  made  no 
effort  to  cater  to  the  illiterate  or  semi-literate 
classes;  and  the  present  writer  can  well  remem- 
ber emitting  a  wail  of  horror  in  the  college 
weekly  of  his  undergraduate  days  at  the  degra- 
dation which  he  conceived  was  being  brought 
by  the  new  ten-cent  Munsey's  upon  the  honored 
name  of  "magazine."  Degradation,  forsooth! 
In  those  days  of  the  'nineties — and  how  much 
more  in  the  'sixties  and  'seventies ! — it  was  im- 
possible for  anyone  to  dream  of  the  degrada- 
tion which  was  to  be  inflicted  upon  magazine- 
dom  in  the  twentieth  century  by  a  horde  of 
literary  panders  who  now  control  the  numeric- 
ally largest,  if  not  the  most  important  and  most 
influential  part  of  magazine  circulation  in  the 
United  States  and  Canada. 

Fiction  was  by  no  means  the  sole  interest  of 
the  magazine  in  the  time  when  Canadians  de- 
cided that  magazines  must  be  allowed  into  this 
country  without  let.  Such  fiction  as  they  did 
contain  was  serious  and  important ;  the  ma- 
jority of  the  "classic"  novels  of  the  Victorian 
period  passed  through  one  or  other  of  the  great 
American  magazines  in  serial  form.  But  there 
were  many  other  elements  of  solid  cultural  val- 
ue :  science,  the  arts,  travel,  literature,  religion, 
sociology,  all  were  treated  with  knowledge  and 
sincerity,  yet  in  a  democratic  and  semi-popular 
way  which  made  their  articles  much  more  valu- 
able in  a  country  like  Canada  than  the  top- 
lofty utterances  of  the  "reviews"  which  flour- 
ished in  England  and  Scotland.  There  could, 
in  fact,  be  no  question  as  to  the  cultural  value 
of  the  magazine  as  it  existed  between  1850  and 

L900,  nor  as  to  the  desirability  of  its  free  cir- 
culation in  ( lanada. 
Today  tin     ituation   is  completely   reversed. 

The  greal  hulk  of  the  "literature"  which  comes 
into  this  country  in  periodical  form  is  not  only 
useless,  it  is  destructive  -as  a  narcotic  is  de- 
structive to  the  mental  energies  of  the  taker,  if 

QOl  as  a  vie,  ig  destructive  to  his  morals.  And 
it  is  time  that  this  change  in  the  utility,  the 
cultural  value,  of  the  average  printed  periodi- 
cal was  taken  into  consideration  by  the  people 
of  Canada.  There  is  no  reason  why  this  coun- 
try should  fiut  itself  to  any  loss,  or  forego  any 
possible  revenue,  in  order  to  permit  "Snappy 
Stories"  and  "Spicy  Specimens"  to  circulate 
freely  in  our  midst.  We  arc  not  proposing  a 
censorship.  We  do  not  suggest  that  any  cus- 
toms official,  or  anybody  else,  be  authorised  to 
distinguish  for  us  between  those  magazines 
which  we  should  read  and  those  which  we  should 
not.  We  are  merely  asking  that  the  average  pre- 
sent-day non-Canadian  magazine,  its  character 
and  utility,  be  taken  into  consideration  when 
the  question  of  the  treatment  of  non-Canadian 
magazines  is  up  for  settlement ;  and  that  if  it  be 
found  that  the  average  non-Canadian  magazine 
in  Canada  is  a  pernicious  and  anti-Canadian 
nuisance,  as  we  firmly  believe  it  to  be,  Canada 
should  then  give  up  the  sacrifices  which  she 
has  made  to  promote  the  circulation  of  foreign 
magazines — sacrifices  which  she  has  made  ow- 
ing to  a  conception  of  their  utility  which  is 
hopelessly  out  of  date. 

What  are  these  sacrifices?  A  very  consider- 
able revenue  might  be  derived  from  a  tax  on 
imported  periodicals,  or  on  the  advertising  con- 
tained in  imported  periodicals,  or  on  both ;  and 
a  protection  might  thus  be  afforded  to  the 
magazine  industry  in  Canada,  which  at  pre- 
sent derives  no  benefit  whatever  from  the  pro- 
tective tariff  and  suffers  heavily  from  it  in  the 
increased  cost  of  everything  employed  in  maga- 
zine manufacture.  We  are  sacrificing  both  the 
revenue  and  the  magazine  industry.  Is  it  said 
that  such  a  tax  would  hit  the  Century  as  much 
as  the  Ginger  Jar,  the  Atlantic  Monthly  as 
much  as  the  Police  Gazette?  Well,  what  if  it 
did  ?  Most  of  those  who  read  the  Century  could 
afford  the  tax,  and  love  their  Century  enough 
to  pay  it ;  and  we  might  in  time  get  an  Atlan- 
tic Monthly  and  a  Century  of  our  own — we  have 
just  as  good  rights  to  the  ocean  and  just  as  much 
interest  in  the  century.  Is  it  said  that  it  would 
be  a  tax  on  knowledge?  Why,  we  already  tax 
every  inch  of  printed  knowledge  that  comes  in- 
to the  country,  unless  it  happens  to  be  in  period- 
ical form. 



April,  1919. 

The  Deluge  of  American  Magazines 

in  Canada 

Everybody  admits  that  it  exists,  most  of  us  deplore  it,  and  here 
are  four  totally  different  views  about  how  to  deal 
(or  not  to  deal)  with  it,  by  a  Librarian,  a  Pub- 
lisher, a  Litterateur  and  an  Imperialist. 

Let  All  Continue  to 

Come  Freely,  Says 

Arthur  L.  Phelps 

THE    problem   is   important,      At   this   very 
moment,   beside  the  rusty,   fat   bellied 
coal  stove  at  our  cross  roads  grocery, 
with  his  feet  up  and  his  pipe  aglow,  sits,  I  war- 
rant, our  local  store  keeper  rapt  in  the  pages 
of  the  "Popular."    It  is  the  hour  of  deep  ease 
after  dinner  in  the  country;  only  the  rare  dis- 
turber will  be  driving  the  roads  and  clicking 
the  door  latch ;  it  is  the  hour  of  the  "Popular." 
I  have  seen  a  truck  load  of  these  same  "Popu- 
lars"    dumped    off    into    the    pavement's    grey 
maw  on  a  misty  morning  in  Toronto,  the  very 
flame  and  riot  of  their  covers  indicating  their 
mission  to  bring  light  and  colour  to  the  drab 
Ontarians.     I  have  stood  at  the  magazine  table 
in    our   departmental    stores    and    watched    the 
magazines  being  pushed  about  and  lifted   and 
glanced  into  and  purchased  by  these  same  On- 
tarians.    What  variety  of  name,  of  appeal,  of 
style,  on  that  table  !    What  delightful  diversity ! 
What  magnificent  flamings  and  delicate  glow- 
ings!    What  dignity,  vulgarity,  reticence,  aban- 
don!     The  Twentieth  Century  on  a  salestable ! 
The  pulse  of  obscene  splendour  and  the  sedative 
of  spinster  propriety.     "Snappy  Stories"  and 
the   "Atlantic"! 

Can  we  do  without  all  this  ?  Can  we  do  with- 
out any  part  of  it?  If  we  wish  to  do  without 
any  part  of  it,  how  are  we  to  accomplish  our 
wish  ?  How  are  wc  to  discriminate  amid  the 
infinite  variety  of  this  vivid,  silent  invasion, 
what  members  debar,  what  members  admit,  and 
for  what  reasons?  And  who  are  "we,"  any- 

The  magazines  come  in.  They  vivify  and  re- 
vivify us  throughout  the  months.  What  shall 
we  do  with  them  ? 

Let  them  all  continue  to  come.  Because:  (1) 
Their  infinite  variety  is  a  stimulus  that  is  on 
the  whole  good  for  morality  and  national  feel- 
ing and  national  literary  industry.  (2)  No 
discrimination,  however  exercised,  could  achieve 
a  good,  sufficient  to  offset  the  evils  of  restric- 
tion ;  and  discrimination,  once  admitted  as  a 
principle,  would  likely  be  disastrous  as  a  prac- 

(1)     Wise  men  have   argued   that  the  only 
real  morality  is  built  up  out  of  the  inhibitions 
of  individual  experience.     Then,  if  the  frivolity 
and  cheapness  of  American  magazines  is  affect- 
ing Canadian  life,  Canadian  life,  out  of  contact 
with  the  menace,  will  have  to  develop  its  own 
antitoxins.     It  is   doubtful   if  mere   protection 
from  exposure  will  ever  achieve  a  healthy  im- 
munity  that   can   be    called   national    morality. 
Better  let  the  Canadians  who  are  going  to  have 
their  mental  measles  and  chicken-pox  and  "flu" 
from   generation  to  generation,  get   it  over  on 
the  exposure  America  so  freely  offers.     There 
will  always  be  such  persons.     If  "Live  Stories" 
isn't  available  to  infect  them  they  will  wait  and 
watch  until  "Jack  Canuck"  or  some  other  Can- 
adian publication  develops  the  particular  germ 
that  will  do  the  trick.     This  is  an  admission,  of 
course,    that   "Live    Stories"   may   be   just   as 
necessary  to  our  national  morality,  as,  say,  "The 
Century."    I  really  imagine  it  could  be  proven 
that   this   infection   isn't   a   very   bad   thing   at 
all.  that,  unless  the  patient  is  marked  for  dis- 
solution any  way,  most  of  the  cases  run  through 
"Snappy"  and  "Live  Stories"  up  to  the  "Blue 
Book,"  the  "Popular,"  "McClures,"  "Cosmo- 
politan," even  to  "Everybody's,"  "Scribners" 
and  the  "Canadian,"  that   is,   from  disease  to 
comparative  health. 

All    this    indiscriminate    invasion     does     not 
menace    Canadian    national    feeling.        Nobody 

April,   1919. 

C  I  A  .!/»/. I.\     liunh  1/  I  \ 


ever  became  an  American  from  reading  the 
"Red  Book,"  or  "The  Literary  Digest."  Even 
the  "Saturday  Evening  Post."  though  it  does 
know  how  to  create  readers,  doesn't  make  Am- 

Our  own  literary  industry  cannot  be  finally 
bettered  by  the  exclusion  of  American  or  Eng- 
lish or  any  publications.  Our  own  literary  in- 
dustry is  being  stimulated  by  the  very  influx 
of  such.  Slowly  there  is  being  created  a  reading 
public  with  an  increasing  amount  of  sophisti- 
cated appetite  and  decent  taste.  As  long  as 
national  feeling  does  not  decline,  and  it  is  not 
declining,  the  public  remains  ready  to  welcome 
Canadian  work,  even  to  choose  it  from  the 
American  offering:,  other  things  being  nearly 
equal.  Other  things,  up  to  the  present,  have 
not  been  nearly  equal.  Canadian  work  has  had 
great  fundamental  qualities,  but  it  has  lacked 
in  cosmopolitan  finish  and  urbanity  and  the 
flair  of  sophistication,  just  those  qualities  which 
acquaintance  with  the  infinite  variety  of  the 
foreign  magazine  world  will  develop.  This  then: 
The  American  invasion  will  create  appetite  and 
taste.  It  will  nourish  in  us  the  qualities,  being 
little  and  young  and  provincial,  we  need.  It 
will  make  us  ready  to  recognise  and  welcome 
our  own  beginnings  wherever  our  writers 
emerge  offering  us  a  Canadian  subject  matter 
in  an  artistic  setting.  It  will  help  our  own 
magazines  by  preparing  for  them  a  public  cap- 
able of  being  critical. 

(2)  One  need  not  say  much  about  the  diffi- 
culties of  discrimination.  In  the  first  place, 
where  would  discrimination  begin  and  where 
end,  and  who  should  discriminate  ?  Neither  a 
good  and  sober  Methodist  politician  of  unques- 
tioned denominational  antecedents  nor  a  Mc- 
Gill  humorist  would  avail,  to  refer  to  only 
two  of  our  prominent  citizens.  A  humorist's 
discriminations  would  be  as  dangerous  as  a 
Methodist's  and  both  far  more  dangerous  to 
morality  than  the  present  laissez  fairr.  A 
Methodist  is  far  too  certain  and  a  humorist  far 
too  uncertain  for  morality.  I  would  distrust 
a  Bureau  of  Discrimination  altogether.  I  be- 
lieve we  have  no  citizen  moral  enough  or  pos- 
sessed of  sufficient  insight  into  the  principles 
of  national  well-being  to  be  head  of  such  » 
Bureau.  Certainly  the  editor  of  "Jack 
Canuck"  would  not  do,  nor  any  professor  or 
poet,  nor  the  Minister  of  Education,  nor  any 
politician,  nor  any  member  of  the  clergy.  Some 
simple  citizen  in  some  remote  section  of  the 
countryside  might  be  discovered  with  the  re- 
quisite amount  of  unspoiled  instinct ;  but  the 
corset  and  underwear  advertisements  in  "The 

Ladies  Home  Journal"  and  II  I,  Mencken's 
column  in  "The  Smart  Set"  would  probably 
even  then   play  upon   his  simplicity  and  elude 

his    exclusions;    he    would     mistake    the    one    for 

natural  phenomena  and  the  other  for  wisdom 

1  should  personally  lie  afraid  of  a  censor  be- 
cause, even  if  he  were  no  worse  kind  of  a  man, 
he  might  exclude  "Tie'  Little  Review,"  the 
"Liberator"  and  "Popular  Mechanics"  with- 
out which  trio  I  couldn't  know  what  Ezra 
Pound  is  up  to  next,  or  the  number  of  lynch 
that  occur  weekly  in  the  C.X.,  or  how  to  mend 
my  Ford  car.  I  admit  that  Ezra  Pound  is  queer 
and  the  lynchings  are  horrible  and  the  Ford 
makeshifts  abominable,  but  then,  who  is  there 
among  us  who  does  not  cherish  his  queerness, 
his  horrors  and  his  abominations,  learning  there- 
by the  preciousness  of  life? 

In  a  word,  nobody's  instincts  are  unspoiled 
enough  for  this  business  of  discrimination,  even 
though  we  admit  such  a  thing  to  be  theoretically 
desirable.  Certain  philosophizings  to  the  con- 
trary, nobody  is  God,  not  even  J-hn  M-e- 
N-ght-n.  So  let  us  diddle  on  without  setting 
any  one  up  among  us  to  usurp  the  functions 
of  Deity.  We  have  done  enough  of  that  al- 
ready and  made  a  wreck  of  our  morality.  God 
will  take  care  of  us.  even  of  the  Canadian  pub- 
lishers, in  this  matter  of  magazine  reading  ma- 
terial, about  which  we  are  not  sure.  Some  of  it 
is  certainly  good.  Some  of  it  is  certainly  bad. 
Who  of  us  knows  which  from  which?  Let  both 
grow  together  until  the  harvest.  The  harvest  is 
the  end  of  the  world. 

Have  a  Propaganda 

For  Our  Literature,  says 

Mary  J.  L.  Black 

IN  considering  the  question  of  the  use  and 
abuse  of  American  periodicals  one  wishes 
to  avoid  anything  that  looks  like  in- 
sularity, but  the  fact  remains  that  there 
are  grave  dangers  to  our  national  spirit  through 
the  too  extensive  use  of  American  periodicals, 
to  the  exclusion  of  our  own.  This  statement  is 
true,  even  if  only  applied  to  those  excellent 
magazines  of  which  any  American  may  well  be 
proud,  for  these  magazines  are  edited  by  Am- 
ericans for  Americans,  and  often  with  the  de- 
liberate purpose  of  encouraging  a  love  of  and 
pride  in  their  country.     This  is  most  commend- 



April,  1919. 

able  so  far  as  they  are  concerned,  but  it  is  an 
entirely  different  matter  when  we,  as  Can- 
adians, allow  this  same  literature  to  vitiate  our 
national  spirit.  Loyalty  to  one 's '  country,  just 
as  to  one"s  friend,  is  based  on  knowledge,  re- 
spect and  pride,  and  if  our  citizens  get  their 
reading  largely  from  an  American  source,  how 
can  we  expect  them  to  get  this  intellectual, 
ethical  and  civic  relationship  necessary  to  pro- 
duce the  Canadian  spirit.  Surely  when  one 
considers  how  limited  is  our  field  of  Canadian 
periodical  literature,  and  how  difficult  to  pro- 
cure, and  how  abundant  and  inexpensive  is  that 
of  the  American  publishers,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  our  loyalty  is  lukewarm,  and  our  interest 

The  difficulty  in  developing  a  periodical  lit- 
erature of  our  own  is  not  entirely  due  to  small- 
ness  of  population,  or  lack  of  material,  or  to  the 
slowness  of  the  trade  in  encouraging  the  sale 
of  such,  but  rather,  to  a  lack  of  desire  on  the 
part  of  the  people  themselves  to  read  exclusive 
Canadian  publications.  If  one  can  find  a  rea- 
son for  this  lack,  one  has  got  a  long  way  in  find- 
ing the  solution  to  our  problem. 

To  my  mind,  the  first  reason  is  the  lack  of 
adequate  training  in  our  schools  in   Canadian 
history   and   biography   and   natural    resources. 
What  opportunity  has  the  average  Canadian  to 
know  anything  about  the  picturesque  days  and 
peoples  of  early  Canada  or  the  equally  interest- 
ing romance  associated  with  our  economic  and 
geographic  development?     None.       Could  any- 
thing be  more  barren  than  the  ordinary  Can- 
adian history  text-book?     Is  it  surprising  that 
the  average  child  looks  upon  his  lessons  in  Can- 
adian history  as  an  unmitigated  bore,  believing 
them  to  be  lacking  in  everything  that  makes  the 
old  world  history  romantic  and  charming  ?  With 
this  lack  of  knowledge  how  can  they  be  expect- 
ed to  have  respect  or  pride,   love,   or  loyalty? 
Surely,  it  would  not  be  a  difficult   matter  to 
write  a  child's  history  of  Canada,  that  would 
give  them  all  the  life  and  activity  and  romance 
that  they  could  possibly  desire !     This  must  be 
the  first  thing  done,   and   put   as  a  text   book 
into  all  our  schools,  and  accompanying  this  new 
text  book  must  come  a  reform  in  the  methods  of 
teaching   the   subject.      I    would    like   to   see   a 
scholarly   and   poetic   specialist    in   each   school 
to  handle  the  history  and   literature,   for  only 
such   a   person  can  give  the   necessary   historic 
background,  without  which  deference  for  one's 
flag  and  national  anthem,  and  an  appreciation 
of  the  joy  and  responsibilities  of  citizenship,  can 
never  develop. 

Concurrently  with  this  movement,  the  Gov- 
ernment should  subsidize  a  certain  number  of 
men  of  letters,  conditionally  on  their  remaining 
in  ( lanada,  and  doing  their  share  in  building 
up,  through  literature,  a  Canadian  spirit,  It 
should  be  one  of  the  duties  of  these  men  to  pro- 
duce suitable  magazines  to  meet  the  needs  of 
the  various  sections  of  the  country,  using  Can- 
adian brains  whenever  possible,  but  never  hesi- 
tating to  bring  in  outside  talent  if  necessary. 
These  magazines,  whether  they  be  of  a  general 
character  or  those  dealing  with  special  lines  of 
interest,  should  all  possess  one  aim,  namely  to 
widen  one's  vision  of  Canadian  history,  litera- 
ture, national  resources,  and  future  possibili- 
ties. They  should  in  every  way  encourage  Can- 
adian writers  and  subjects,  so  that  the  multi- 
tude of  Canadians  who  have  been  driven  out 
of  the  country  to  seek  their  fortunes  in  foreign 
lands  will  gladly  return  to  help  in  this  mighty 
work.  Of  course,  such  a  scheme  would  cost 
money.  Why  shouldn  't  it  ?  Money  is  spent  on 
other  forms  of  propaganda,  why  not  on  this,  if 
in  the  end,  Canadians  were  taught  to  know  their 
country,  to  take  pride  in  it,  and  to  rejoice  in 
serving  it? 

Then,  and  not  till  then,  the  periodical  ques- 
tion will  be  largely  solved,  for  we  woidd  have 
no  market  for  the  cheap  and  often  injurious 
reading  that  is  now  pouring  into  our  country, 
and  the  field  for  even  the  better  type  would  be 
largely  reduced  when  our  public  are  shown  that, 
excepting  in  those  subjects  that  are  entirely  dis- 
associated from  Canadian  interests,  the  Cana- 
dian publisher  can  supply  all  his  magazine 

Tariff  to  Protect 

Native  Literature, 

Says  Castell  Hopkins 

I  DO  not  know  of  any  greater  influence  in  the 
formation  of  national  lines  of  thought  than 
the  flooding  of  this  country  with  alien 
literature,  ideals,  principles  and  polity.  The 
combination  of  a  mass  of  American  journals — 
cheap,  popular,  and  in  many  cases  lacking  in 
morals  or  high  development  of  thought — with 
a  press  which  receives  practically  the  whole  of 
its  news  about  Britain  as  the  head  of  the  Em- 
pire, about  other  countries  of  the  Empire,  and 

April,  1919. 



about  foreign  nations  which  are  the  friends  and 
Allies  of  Great  Britain,  through  Americans 
writing  in  London  for  the  consumption  of  Am 
erioans  in  the  United  States,  cannol  but  train 
the  youth  of  our  country  along  American  lines 
and  in  a  totally  foreign  view-point  of  Great 

What,  after  all,  do  we,  and  especially  the 
youth  of  our  country,  learn  from  this  American- 
ization of  the  sources  of  all  popular  knowledge, 
except  the  fact  that  the  United  States  of  Am- 
erica dominates  the  world  in  culture  of  a  certain 
type,  in  swiftness  of  thought  and  rapidity  of 
action,  in  capacity  for  raising  armies  and  build- 
ing navies,  while  Great  Britain  is  sleeping  or 
dazed  ?  What  do  we  learn  from  it  except  that 
American  civilization,  power,  progress,  are 
greater  than  those  which  we  inherit  and  share 
in  from  Britain  ?  What  do  we  learn  except  a 
continually  greater  sense  of  the  greatness  of 
the  United  States? 

Such  poisoning  of  the  wells  of  political 
thought  cannot  fail,  in  due  time,  to  make  our 
people  non-British,  if  not  actually  anti-British. 
I  do  hope  that  your  Symposium  will  do  good  in 
awakening  public  thought  to  the  vast  issues  in- 
volved in  the  training  of  our  people  along  the 
lines  naturally  taught  by  a  foreign  nation  to  its 
own  people.  After  all,  we  are  eight  millions  to 
one  hundred  millions,  and  the  steady  pressure 
of  United  States  thought  and  United  States 
views  of  British  life,  power,  naval  supremacy 
and  expansion  must  influence  us  in  directions 
absolutely  inimical  to  our  destiny  as  British  na- 
tions in  a  great  British  Empire. 

How  this  difficulty  can  be  adjusted  depends, 
in  my  opinion,  first  on  the  granting  of  a  con- 
siderable subsidy  by  the  Government  to  Cana- 
dian Press  Agencies  in  London,  so  as  to  remove 
from  our  despatches  the  American  atmosphere 
with  which  American  writers  in  London  would 
naturally  surround  despatches  intended  for  Am- 
ericans in  the  United  States  and  utilized  by  our 
newspapers  in  Canada  as  being  infinitely  less 
expensive  than  direct  Canadian  despatches.  In 
the  second  place  the'  matter  of  magazines  de- 
pends upon  whether  the  Government  will  con- 
sent to  put  a  duty  on  these  products  and  thus 
encourage  native  literary  work  and  native  pub- 
lication. It  might  be  mentioned  in  passing,  also, 
that  these  American  magazines  are  full  of  every 
kind  of  advertisement  calculated  to  draw  people 
away  from  patronizing  Canadian  manufactur- 
ers and  Canadian  products. 

Tax  The  Advertising 

Pages,  Suggests  Frank 

Wise  of  Macmillans' 

Tvmeo  Danaos  et  dona  ferentes. 

PERHAPS  1  am  the  last  person  who  should 
be  asked  for  an  expression  on  the  Ameri- 
can Magazine  Invasion  since  I  never  read 
them.  Long  ago  I  found  even  my  poor, 
simple  mind  revolted  at  the  "bosh"  served 
up  in  the  lordly  dishes — the  chromatic  colored 
covers — which  assail  one  at  the  news-stands  and 
on  the  trains. 

I  take  it  that  you  accept,  as  I  do,  Harper's, 
Scribner's  and  the  Century  as  legitimate,  and 
worthy  of  consideration  as  literature,  also  the 
Atlantic  and  the  like,  but  what  of  the  nasty, 
suggestive  picture-covered  allurements  which 
are  displayed  for  our  seduction  on  street  cor- 
ners, tobacco-shops  and  trains?  "Ginger  Tales," 
with  an  unclad  female  with  golden  eyes  and 
ginger  hair  on  the  cover,  "Snappy  Stories" 
with  another  young  person  displaying  all  the 
snaps  on  her  scanty  underclothing,  and  the 
various  "Hot  Stuffs"  and  other  abominations 
that  evidently  possess  the  magic  password  to 
get  them  past  the  censor  sentry  at  the  border? 

Is  it  not  possible  also  that  the  movie  is  respon- 
sible for  much  of  this  worse  than  rubbish? 
Here  again  I  must  plead  ignorance,  since  I 
never  go  to  a  movie,  but  judging  from  the 
suggestive  posters  which  one  passes  outside  these 
picture  "palaces,"  I  (should  guess  that  the 
habitue  of  the  average  film  house  has  his  mind, 
or  that  part  of  his  anatomy  residing  under  his 
hair,  well  attuned  to  appreciate  the  various 
"Gingers,"  "Snaps,"  and  "Hot  Stuffs"  which 
he  is  able  to  read  on  Sundays  when  the  film 
ceases  from  reeling  and  Lesbia  is  at  rest. 

This  suggests  that  the  churches  have  good 
reason  for  insisting  on  this  Sunday  closing.  The 
Commandments  and  their  public  recital  are 
surely  the  special  province  of  the  churches,  and 
it  is  perhaps  only  natural  that  they  should  be 
jealous  of  the  film  which  fakes  a  picture  of  the 
Creation  and  then  takes  the  Commandments 
and  illustrates  them  suitably,  specializing  on 
these,  let  us  say,  from  the  sixth  to  the  last,  with 
extra  emphasis  on  the  sixth  and  seventh. 

To  translate,  freely,  my  opening  quotation — 
"I  fear  the  Yanks  when  they  come  offering  gay- 
colored   magazines. 



April,  1919, 

Canadian  Poets  of  the  Great  War 


I  MUST  be  pardoned  for  the  far  from  orig- 
inal remark  that  a  period  of  intense  na- 
tional exaltation  is  usually  followed  by 
a  period  of  intense  literary  activity.  The 
Augustan  Age,  the  Medicean,  the  Isabellan,  the 
Elizabethan,  the  Louis  XIV,  the  Victorian — 
are  they  not  common  examples?  Sometimes 
local  difficulties  have  prevented  the  sequence, 
such  as  in  the  United  States  after  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  in  Canada  after  the  migration  of  the 
Loyalists — though  in  the  end  these  movements 
have  produced  profound  effects  in  thought  and 
expression;  for  even  if  the  "Great  American 
novel,"  and  the  Great  Canadian  one,  be  still 
missing,  the  traditions  of  Independence  and  of 
United  Empire  have  both  been  vastly  fruitful. 
It  is  fair  to  prognosticate  an  intense  literary 
activity  in  Canada,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  in  the 
near  future,  resulting  from  the  Great  War,  and 
it  is  well  to  scrutinize  the  straws  in  the  wind 
even  now,  because  that  literary  activity  will 
not  be  merely  a  bookish  matter,  but  a  voice  is- 
suing out  of  our  people's  deepest  soul. 

What  took  place  after  that  much  less  stirring, 
although  momentous  event.  Confederation  1 
Momentous,  for  Confederation  made  us  a  na- 
tion. By  the  way,  it  is  amusing  to  hear  every 
now  and  then  that  So-and-so  "made  Canada 
a  nation."  The  feat  has  been  attributed  to 
at  least  a  dozen  different  gentlemen  by  their 
admirers  on  fanciful  grounds,  from  time  to 
time ;  and  to  the  C.P.R.,  and  the  McKinley 
tariff.  But  regarding  even  the  superior  claim 
of  the  Fathers  of  Confederation,  had  as  many 
as  two  of  them  any  real  idea  of  the  effects  of 
what  they  were  doing,  beyond  the  solution  of 
the  old  Provincial  deadlock?  Was  it  not  only 
after  the  deed  was  done  that  the  true  scope  of 
it  began  to  dawn  on  our  people? 

The  word  "nation"  itself  is  one  used  in  too 
many  senses,  and  needs  some  standardization 
by  the  British  Academic  Committee,  or,  in  a 
suggestive  way,  by  some  such  literary  body  as 
The  Royal  Society  of  Canada.  At  any  rate  a 
word  used  in  so  many  confusing  senses  as  "The 
Five  Nations"  for  the  Iroquois  tribes;  "la  na- 
tion canadienne"  for  the  French-Canadian  race, 
in  Lord  Durham's  Report,  and  its  French 
sources;  "It-  parti  national"  for  the    old    Mer- 

cier  Race  Party  in  Quebec;  "the  British  na- 
tion" for  the  people  of  the  British  Isles,  and 
also  for  the  British  Imperial  stock;  "the  Scotch 
nation",  "the  Irish  nation,"  for  two  dialectic 
British  provinces  represented  in  the  Parliament 
of  the  United  Kingdom;  "the  Imperial  nation" 
for  the  British  peoples  at  large,  and  "the  Can- 
adian nation"  for  that  part  of  it  municipally 
organized  in  Canada : — a  word  used  in  such 
a  jumble  of  significations  requires  definition  for 
any  particular  context.  When  therefore  I  say 
"Confederation  made  us  a  nation,"  what  is 
meant  by  the  word  is,  a  people  brought  together 
as  a  working  political  organism  within  a  certain 
territory.  This  by  no  means  implies  a  sovereign 
state:  Canada's  nationhood  is  still  a  statehood 
in  the  United  States  of  Britain,  and  perhaps 
sooner  than  we  expect  may,  as  part  of  the  Brit- 
ish Commonwealth,  be  combined  with  a  differ- 
ent and  larger  quality  still,  of  membership  in 
the  Federation  of  the  World.  Our  ultimate 
nationality  is  humanity.  I  confess  to  have  long 
had  a  hope  of  a  larger  Union  between  the  Brit- 
ish Empire,  France  and  the  United  States. 
Anyway,  Confederation  lifted  us  out  of  the 
pettiness  of  provincialism.  It  brought  us  a  ter- 
ritory larger  than  Europe  to  work  in,  and  a 
wondrous  ideal  of  what  that  new  Europe  might 
become  for  our  seers  to  sing  of. 

Thus  arose  the  Confederation  School  of  Can- 
adian poets.  Why  the  prose  writers  lagged  be- 
hind is  another  story.  The  compact  and  spirit- 
ed message  of  lyric  verse  is  doubtless  the  main 
secret  of  its  influence  in  an  age  averse  to  long 
compositions  and  diluted  thought.  As  the  first 
anthologist  of  the  Confederation  poets,  I  had 
the  privilege  of  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
principal  men  and  women  of  the  school  and  pre- 
serve their  letters  as  valued  treasures.  Among 
them  were  John  Reade  (now  the  delightful 
Dean  of  the  guild),  Archibald  Lampman, 
Charles  George  Douglas  Roberts,  Bliss  Carman, 
Charles  Mair,  Frederick  George  Scott,  Hunter 
Duvar,  William  Wilfred  Campbell,  Dr.  William 
Henry  Drummond.  Duncan  Campbell  Scott, 
John  E.  Logan,  George  Murray,  George  Martin, 
William  McLennan,  "Seranus,"  Ethelwyn 
Wetherald,  Agnes  Maule  Machar,  Pauline  John- 
son and  Isabella  Valancv  ( 'rawford.  These  ap- 
peared practically  together  like  a  flight  of  song- 



r  l  \   \PI  I  \     /:o//A  1/  I  \ 


birds  From  tlir  South  in  April,  wafted  in  by 
some  mighty  wind  of  the  spirit.  The  birthdates 
of  most  nf  them  are  within  a  few  years  of  each 
other,  not  far  from  I860.  Roberts  had  the 
greatest  promise.  The  new  and  spontaneous 
pal  riot  ic  outburst  of  his  : 

()  Child  of  Nations,  giant-limbed 

Who  stand 'st   among  the  nations  now 

evoked      an      immediate      emotional 
throughout    the   Dominion: 


But  thou,  my  Country,  dream  not  thou. 

Wake  and  behold  how  night  is  done! — 
How  on  thy  breast  and  o'er  thy  brow. 

Bursts  the  uprising  sun ! 

and  again,  his  "Ode  for  the  Canadian  Confed- 
eracy," beginning: 

Awake !  my  country,  the  hour  is  great  with 

If  the  song  of  each  of  the  poets  of  Confedera- 
tion is  analyzed  we  find  in  it  the  note  of  a  new 
freedom  and  mastery — a  cry  which  had  been 
lacking  before,  of  relief  from  the  small  provin- 
cial outlook,  and  a  devotion  to  the  beauty  of  this 
most  beautiful  of  all  lands.  Archibald  Lamp- 
man,  for  instance,  seems  at  first  sight  to  deal 
in  themes  and  measures  far  away  from  national 
outlook.  What  have  his  titles,  "Alcyone," 
."The  Favorites  of  Pan,"  or,  "The  Story  of  an 
Affinity."  to  do  with  Canada?  Or  "The  Frogs" 
— those  "quaint  uncouth  dreamers,  voices  high 
and  strange?" — by  which  he  told  me  he  really 
intended  the  tree-toads!  But  in  that  exquisite 
poem,  what  a  picture  of  the  charm  of  his  coun- 
try ! 

And  ever  as  ye  piped,  on  every  tree, 

The  great   buds  swelled;   among  the  pensive 
The  spirits  of  first  flowers  awoke  and  flung 
From    their    buried    faces    the    close-fitting 
And  listened  to  your  piping  till  they  fell, 
The  frail  spring-beauty  with    her    perfumed 
The  windflowyer,  and  the  spotted  adder-tongue. 

After  all,  in  his  most  distant  excursions,  he  was 
working  at  the  enrichment  of  Canadian  life.  In 
"Freedom,"  he  turns  to  the  Laurentians ;  paint- 
ing in  clear,  firm  tones  the  new  wide  land : 

Up  to  the  hills,  where  the  winds  restore  us, 
Clearing  our  eyes  to  the  beauty  before  us; 

Earth  with  the  glory  of  life  on  her  breast, 
Earth  with  the  gleam  of  her  cities  and  streams. 

Lampman's  amplest  expression  of  his  lovely  and 
attractive  soul,     for  all   who  knew  him   loved 

him  deeply      is  liis  "Land  of  l'allas."  that   noble 

picture  of  the  ideal  country  . 

A  land  where  Beauty  dwelt  supreme;  and  Right, 
the  donor 
Of  peaceful  days,  a  land  of  equal  gifts  and 

Of   limitless   fair   fields,   and    plenty    had    with 
honor ; 
A    land    of    kindly    tillage    and     untroubled 

A  land  of  lovely  speech,  where  every  tone  was 
By  generations  of  emotion,  high  and  sweet  , 
Of  thought  and  deed  and  bearing  lofty  and  im- 
A  land  of  golden  calm,  grave  forms  and  fret 
less  feet. 

There  were  no  castes  of  rich  or  poor,  of  slave 
or  master, 
Where  all  were  brothers  and  the  curse  of  gold 
was  dead; 
But  all  that  wise  fair  race  to  kindlier  ends  and 
Moved  on  together  with    the    same     majestic 

That  "land  of  golden  calm"  was  the  ideal  Can- 
ada, the  new  vision  of  the  community  to  be,  to 
which  his  full  heart  yearned,  and  to  which  he 
gave  prophetic  utterance. 

Every  one  of  the  Confederation  School  in- 
stinctively contributed  his  share  to  the  edifice, 
some  more  directly  than  others.  Some  were  the 
landscape  artists  of  our  verse,  some  the  histori- 
cal composers,  others  the  mystics,  others  refin- 
ed musicians  in  the  art  of  words.  None  com- 
posed with  more  Celtic  passion  of  patriotism 
than  the  late  William  Wilfred  Campbell.  Of 
him  one  could  always  feel  that  he  was  the 
thoroughgoing  poet,  his  own  first  convert  to 
his  message,  untamed  in  soul,  unapologetic  for 
art,  the  incarnation  of  noble  earnestness,  a  des- 
piser  of  ignoble  things  and  ignoble  men : 

Earth's  dream  of  poetry  will  never  die. 

Wrong  cannot  kill  it.     Man's  material  scheme 

May  scorn  its  uses,  worship  baser  hope 

Of  life's  high  purpose,  build  about  the  world 

A  brazen  rampart :  through  it  all  will  come 

The  iron  moan  of  life's  unresting  sea; 

And  through   its  floors,   as   filtered   blooms   of 

Those   flowers    of    dream   will    spring,    eternal, 


'Tis  the  name  that  the  world  repeats. 



April,  1919. 

Till  the  last  great  freedom  is  found, 

And  the  last  great  truth  is  taught, 
Till  the  last  great  deed  is  done, 

And  the  last  great  battle  is  fought, 
Till  the  last  great  fighter  is  slain  in  the  last 
great  fight, 

And  the  warwolf  is  dead  in  his  den, 
England,  breeder  of  hope  and  valor  and  might, 

Iron  mother  of  men. 

The  Confederation  School  indeed  expressed 
something  which  was  at  the  root  of  the  chival- 
rous conduct  of  our  young  Canadians  in  the 
Great  War.     They  both  expressed  and  inspired 


It  would  be  very  easy  to  trace  the  elements 
of  the  common  task  in  the  product  of  others  of 
the  school.  I  shall  quote  a  brief  distinctive  note 
from  two  of  its  eminent  members. 

Frederick  George  Scott  wrote  the  following 
inscription  for  the  Soldiers'  Monument  at  Que- 

Not  by  the  power  of  Commerce,  Art  or  Pen 
Shall    our    great    Empire    stand,    nor    has    it 

But  by  the  noble  deeds  of  noble  men, 
Heroic  lives  and  heroes'  outpoured  blood. 

And  from  Duncan  Campbell  Scott  may  be  chos- 
en the  exquisite  sonnet: 


Before  Dawn. 
The  stars  are  stars  of    mom;    a    keen    wind 

The  birches  on  the  slope ;  the  distant  hills, 
Rise  in  the  vacant  North;  the  Chaudiere  fills 
The  calm  with  its  hushed  roar;  the  river  takes 
An  unquiet  rest,  and  a  bird  stirs,  and  shakes 
The   morn  with   music;    a    snatch    of    singing 

Prom  the  river;  and  the  air  clings  and  chills. 

Fair  in  the  South ;  fair  as  a  shrine  that  makes 
The  wonder  of  a  dream,  imperious  towers, 
Pierce  and  possess  the  sky,  guarding  the  halls, 
Where  our  young  strength  is  welded  strenuous- 
ly ; 
While  in  the  East  the  Star  of  morning  dowers 
The  land  with  a  large  tremulous  light,  that  falls 
A  pledge  and  presage  of  our  destiny. 

The  Great  War  is  vastly  more  stirring  as  an 
era  than  Confederation  was.  We  are  passing 
through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 
and  many  of  our  sons  have  crossed  the  dark 
river  itself  and  disappeared  into  the  night. 
Pierce  tests  are  forging  men  and  will  turn  into 
our  home  life  a  stern  and  determined  army, 
hating  shams,  not  afraid  of  true  revolutions, 
and  accustomed  to  ideals,  although  singularly 
silent   about  them.     Momentous  views  and  pro- 

found feelings  have  already  begun  to  find  some 
utterance  here  as  well  as  in  other  allied  lands. 
By  examining  the  body  of  scattered  verse  from 
Canadian  pens,  we  may  hope  to  construct  a  dim 
picture  of  our  coming  poetic  generation.  Never 
mind  the  form.  The  mass  must  be  regarded  in 
the  same  light  as  those  absorbing  wash-and-pen- 
cil  drawings,  which  come  from  the  front,  whose 
interest  lies  in  their  transcript  character — 
transcripts  of  hourly  trial  and  danger;  of  in- 
cidents of  battle;  of  sad  and  tragic  partings 
with  the  dying  brave ;  of  regimental  losses  in  the 
charge;  of  heroic  merriment  under  the  miseries 
and  privations  of  the  winter  dugout,  the  cold, 
the  flooded  trenches  and  the  Flanders  mud. 

Naturally,  several  of  the  surviving  Confedera- 
tion Poets  overlap  the  nascent  After- War  School 
by  treating  of  such  themes.  Frederick  George 
Scott  has  served  at  the  front  as  chaplain  since 
1914,  has  lost  one  son  killed  in  action  and  has 
seen  another  part  with  an  eye  by  a  German  bul- 
let. Out  of  the  fulness  of  his  heart  he  has 
composed  several  of  our  finest  poems  on  the 
war.  Charles  G.  D.  Roberts,  who  also  holds  a 
commission  at  the  front,  Duncan  Campbell 
Scott,  Wilfred  Campbell,  Mrs.  Harrison  ("Ser- 
anus"),  Mrs.  Isabella  Ecclestone  Mackay,  and 
Miss  Machar,  have  all  contributed  to  the  ex- 
pression of  war  life.  And  Robert  W.  Service 
— who  might  be  called  a  belated  member  of  the 
Confederation  School,  because  of  his  creation 
of  the  poetic  Yukon— and  Theodore  Goodridge 
Roberts,  brother  of  C.  G.  D.,  are  doing  good 
work  in  France.  All  these  writers  of  pre-war  at- 
tainment are  giving  our  war  verse  some, of  its 
first  forms  and  part  of  its  lines  of  impulse.  By 
reason  of  their  previous  experience,  they 
promptly  seize  some  of  its  characteristics.  Yet 
it  is  a  question  whether  they  do  or  do  not  have, 
in  their  previous  training,  a  disadvantage  as 
well  as  an  advantage  over  the  new  writers  who 
will  be  wholly  inspired  by  the  new  era. 

The  Great  War  period  itself  must  be  regard- 
ed as  a  new  starting  point,  the  foundation  of 
the  After-War  literary  edifice. 

What  then  do  we  find  in  this  Great  War 
period,  now  evidently  shaped  with  considerable 
distinctness?     Is  it  not  the  following  qualities: 

1.  Dreadful  experiences. 

2.  Supreme  heroism. 

3.  Ideals  of  fidelity— Chivalry,  honor,  pat- 
riotism to  Canada,  Empire,  and  humanity. 

4.  Hatred  of  Wrong. 

From  these  have  resulted  self-confidence,  inten- 
sity of  convictions,  directness  of  view,  dignity 
and   new  outlook, — strong  elements  of  impulse 

April.  L919. 



which  are  certain  to  lead  to  constructive  action 
in  the  near  future,  and  thai  action  will,  when 
it  arrives  at  maturity  in  our  national  affairs, 
necessarily  flow  along  the  Lines  of  those  experi- 
ences, ideals  and  impulses. 

Canon  Scott,  the  heroic  chaplain,  always  in 
the  thick  of  danger  and  adored  by  the  men, 
gives  the  following,  among  his  "Poems  written 
at  the  Front": 


They  stand  with  reverent  faces, 

And  their  merriment  give  o'er. 
As  they  drink  the  toast  to  the  unseen  host. 

Who  have  fought  and  gone  before. 

It  is  only  a  passing  moment, 

In  the  midst  of  the  feast  and  song, 

But   it  grips  the  breath,  as  the  wing  of  death 
In  a  vision  sweeps  along.     • 

No  more  they  see  the  banquet, 

And  the  brilliant  lights  around, 
But  they  charge  again  on  the  hideous  plain 

When  the  shell-bursts  rip  the   ground. 

Or  they  creep  at  night,  like  panthers, 
Through  the  waste  of  No  Man's  Land, 

Their  hearts  afire  with  a  wild  desire 
And  death  on  every  hand ; 

And  out  of  the  roar  and  tumult, 
Or  the  black  night  loud  with  rain, 

Some  face  comes  back  from  the  fiery  track 
And  looks  in  their  eyes  again. 

And  the  love  that  is  passing  woman's 

And  the  bonds  that  are  forged  by  death 

Now  grip  the  soul  with  a  strange  control 
And  speak  what  no  man  saith ; 

The  vision  dies  off  in  the  stillness, 

Once  more  the  tables  shine, 
But  the  eyes  of  all  in  the  banquet  hall 

Are  lit  with  a  light  divine. 
Vimy  Ridge,  April.  1917. 

In  "Requiescant"  he  sees  the  same  "unseen 

In  lonely  watches  night  by  night, 
Great  visions  burst  upon  my  sight, 
For  down  the  stretches  of  the  sky, 
The  hosts  of  dead  go  marching  by. 

Strange  ghostly  banners  o'er  them  float, 
Strange  bugles  sound  an  awful  note; 
And  all  their  faces  and  their  eyes 
Are  lit  with  starlight  from  the  skies. 

Robert  W.  Service,  the  "Red  Cross  Man," 
(who  lost  his  brother.  Lieutenant  Albert  Ser- 
vice, killed  in  action  in  1916)  has  sought  his 
subject   with   a  sure  instinct: 


All  day  long  when   the  shells  sail  over, 

I  stand  ;it  the  sandbags  and  take  my  chance; 

But   at   night,  at    night.   I'm  a  reckless  rovt 
And  over  the  parapet  gleams  Romance. 
Romance:     Romance!     How    ['ve    dreamed    it. 

Dreary   old    records   of   money   and    mart, 
Me  with  my  head  chock  full  of  fighting, 

And  the  blood  of  vikings  to  thrill  my  heart! 

But  little  I  thought  that  my  time  was  coming, 

Sudden  ami  splendid,  supreme  and  soon; 
And  here  I  am  with  the  bullets  humming, 

As  1  crawl  and  I  curse  the  light  of  the  moon; 
Out  alone,  for  adventure   thirsting! 

Out  in   mysterious   No  .Man's   Land! 
Prone  with  the  dead  when  a  star  shell  bursting. 

Flares  on  the  horrors  on  every  hand. 

Theodore    Goodridge    Roberts    gives    us   such 
stanzas  as  this: 


Steady  they  come,  as  those  who  had  come  in  the 
Unshaken   they   passed    where    the    bursting 
barrage  was  set; 
They   passed    their   victorious;    they 
passed  to  their  goal — ■ 
The   machine-gunned  houses  and  gardens  of 

Into  and   through   it,    they    flamed    like     fire 
through  stubble; 
With  death   before  them,  behind  them,  and 
swift  in  the  air; 
They  struck  stark  fear  to  the    hearts    of    the 
craven  f oemen  ; 
With  bomb  and  steel  they  dug  the  Boehe  from 
his  lair. 

September   the   Fifteenth.    That    was   a   day   of 
With  blood,  with  life,  they  captured  the  fort- 
ress town  ; 
While  far  away,  in  the  dear  land  they  died  for, 
In  frosty  coverts    the    red    leaves    fluttered 

Others  of  the  older  writers,  who  have  not  been 
at  the  front,  have  also  been  stirred  by  phases 
of  the  struggle.  Duncan  Campbell  Scott  has 
seen  the  vision  of  the  aviator's  soul  in  his  Mil- 
tonic  "Lines  on  a  Canadian  Aviator  who  died 
for  his  Country  in  France." 

But  Death,  who  has  learned  to  fly. 
Still  matchless  when  his  work  is  to  be  done, 

Met  thee  between  the  armies  and  the  sun; 
Thy  speck  of  shadow  faltered  in  the  sky;  ' 

Then  thy  dead  engine  and  thy  broken'  wings 
Drooped  through  the  arc  and  passed  in  fire;^ 

A  wreath  of  smoke, — a  breathless  exhalation ; 
But  ere  that  came,  a  vision  sealed  thine  eyes, 



April,  1910. 

Lulling  thy  senses  with  oblivion; 
And  from  its  sliding  station  in  the  skies 

Thy  dauntless  soul  upward  in  circles  soared 
To  the  sublime  and  purest  radiance  whence  it 

Robert  Stanley  Weir's  "Treason"  gives  vig- 
orous voice  to  the  intense  anger  at  traitors : 



Because  when  your  own  Mother  had  sore  need ; 

Because  you  knew  it  well  and  would  not  heed ; 
Because,  though  ruffians  from  the  raging  Rhine 

Assailed  with  roar  her  very  door; 
You  said  Her  quarrel  is  not  mine. 
Because  of  this : 
Yours  shall  forever  be  a  name  to  hiss! 

Because  not  only  have  you  failed  to  fight, 

At  Armageddon   'gainst  all  Devil's  might; 
But  held  your  brothers  back  when  they  would 


Blinding  their  eyes  with  dastard  lies 
So  that  they  went  not  up  against  the  foe ; 
Because  of  this; 
Yours  shall  forever  be  a  name  to  hiss. 

From  Samuel  Mathewson  Baylis,  author  of 
the  volumes  "Camp  and  Lamp,"  and  "At  the 
Sign  of  the  Beaver,"  come  good  fighting  lines: 


All  unafraid,  as  sire  the  seed, 

Indomitable,  undismayed, 
Fronts  the  ringed  teeth  of  mongrel  breed 

All  unafraid. 

If  few  the  greater  honor  paid ! — 
Adown   the   years   our   Henry's   creed 
Still  fires  high  souls  in  arms  arrayed. 

Though  eyes  be  dim  and  torn  hearts  bleed, 

On !   still   unshaken,   firmly  stayed, 
They  greatly  rise  to  greater  need. 

All  unafraid ! 

It  would  be  invidious  and  inopportune  to  at- 
tempt a  list  of  the  others  who  have  written  well. 

But  the  deepest  interest  lies  in  that  often 
formless  mass  of  new  utterance  which  is  welling 
up  day  by  day  hot  from  the  lifesprings  of  the 
new  generation.  The  famous  lines  of  Lt.-Col. 
John  McCrae,  who  lately  died  of  pneumonia  at 
the  McGill  Hospital,  Boulogne,  are  inseparable 
from  the  Great  War. 

One  of  these  dead  in  Flanders'  fields,  Lieuten- 
ant Bernard  Freeman  Trotter,  who  was  killed 
by  a  high  explosive  shell  on  May  7th,  1917, 
wrote  passages  of  lofty  feeling.  He  exclaims 
while  detained  by  ill-health  from  enlisting: 

0  God,  the  blood  of  Outram  in  these  veins 

( 'ries  shame  upon  the  doom  that  dams  it  there 

1  n  useless  impotence,  while  the  red  torrent  runs 
In  glorious  spate  for  Liberty  and  Right. 

O  to  have  died  that  day  at  Langemarck! 
In  one  fierce  moment  to  have  paid  it  all ! 
The  debt  of  Life  to  Earth  and  Hell  and  Heaven. 
To  have  perished  nobly  in  a  noble  cause, 
Untarnished,  unpolluted,  undismayed, 
By  the  dark  world's  corruption ;  to  have  passed, 
A  flaming  beacon  light  to  gods  and  men, 
For  in  the  years  to  come  it  shall  be  told 
How  these  laid  down  their  lives  not  for  their 

Their   orchards,   fields,   and   cities ;   they   were 

To  slaughter  by  no  tyrant's  lust  for  power; 
Of  their  free  manhood's  choice  they  crossed  the 

To  save  a  stricken  people  from  its  foe 
They  died  for  justice.     Justice  owes  them  this ; 
That  what  they  died  for,  be  not  overthrown. 

And  again : — 

0  happy  dead,  who  sleep  embalmed  in  glory, 

Safe  from  corruption,  purified  by  fire! 

We  shall  grow  old  and  tainted  with  the  rotten 

Effluvia  of  the  peace  we  fought  to  win; 

But  you  have  conquered  Time,  and  sleep  for- 

Like  gods  with  a  white  halo  on  your  brows ; 

Your  souls  our  lodestars,  your  death-crowned 

The  spur  that  holds  the  nations  to  their  vows. 

These  words,  written  in  France  in  April, 
1917,  were  the  last  he  wrote  before  he  himself 
"conquered  Time,  and  slept  forever." 

The  verses  from  Lt.  Peregrine  Acland's  poem 
"The  Reveille  of  Romance"  which  I  am  about 
to  quote  show  the  spirit  of  high  resolve  and  the 
imaginative  outlook  which  actuated  those  who 
sprang  to  arms  at  the  first  call.  This  spirit  up- 
held many  throughout  the  stress  of  the  cam- 
paigns. The  author,  who  wrote  the  lines  at  sea 
on  his  way  to  the  front,  proved  himself  a  fine 
soldier,  received  the  Military  Cross,  was  pro- 
moted to  the  rank  of  Major  and  was  severely 

Regret  no  more  the  age  of  arms, 
Nor  sigh,  "Romance  is  dead." 

Out  of  life's  dull  and  dreary  maze 
Romance  has  raised  her  head. 

From  East  and  West  and  South  and  North 

The  hosts  are  crowding  still ; 
The  long  rails  hum  as  troop-trains  come 

By  valley,  plain  and  hill ; 

And  whence  came  yearly  argosies 
Laden  with  silks  and  corn, 

April.   1919. 

C  i  \  i/'/  I  \    BOOKMAh 


Vast  fleets  of  countless  armed  men 
O'er  tin'  broad  seas  arc  borne. 

Though  warriors  fall  like  frosted  leaves 

Before  November  winds, 
They  only  lose  what  all  must  lose, 

But  find  what  none  else  finds. 

Their  bodies  lie  beside  the  way, 

In  trench,  by  barricade, 
Discarded  by  the  titan  Will 

That  shatters  what  it  made. 

Poor  empty  sheaths,  they  mark  the  course 

Of  spirits  bold  as  young; 
"Whatever  checked  that  fiery  charge 

As  dust  to  dust  was  flung. 

For  terrible  it  is  to  slay 

And  bitter  to  be  slain, 
But  joy  it  is  to  crown  the  soul 

In  its  heroic  reign. 

And  better  far  to  make  or  mar, 

Godlike,  but  for  a  day, 
Than  pace  the  sluggard's  slavish  round 

In  life-long,  mean  decay. 

Who  sighs,  then,  for  the  Golden  Age! 

Romance  has  raised  her  head, 
And  in  the  sad  and  sombre  days 

Walks  proudly  o'er  your  dead. 

The  women  have  contributed  largely.  Mrs. 
Annie  Bethune  Macdougald  speaks  the  gift  of 
the  mothers: 


Some  pay  the  tax  in  riven  gold, 
But  we  in  blood  and  tears, 

Heart  throbs,  lone  vigils,  and  passionate  tend- 
ance through  the  years; 

First  bending  low  to  cull  the  drifting  smile  of 
sleeping  innocence  incarnate 

Then  level,  eye  to  eye,  with  love's  divining 

Would  read  the  riddle  of  the  dawning  man  in- 
nate ; 

Held  hostage  still  by  roguish  straight-limbed 

And  then  with  lifted  eyes  do  we  behold  the 

Of  manly  strength  stand  up  above  us 

And  then,  with  miser  fingers,  we  con  the  hoard- 
ed treasure  of  the  years 

And  wonder,  even  as  Mary,  all  human,  all 
divine  ; 

That  all  such  fair  investment  of  fine  gold, 

Should  buy  us  but  a  crown  of  glistening,  bitter 

'Tis  thus  we  women  pay. 

.Miss  Helen  Coleman, 
"Marching  Men  War 

in  her  volume  entitled 
s"    has    thoughts 

AUTI'.MX,  1917. 

Are    there    young    hearts    in     France    recalling 
These  dream-filled,  blue  Canadian  days, 

When   gold  and   scarlet  flames  are  falling 
From  beech  and  maple  set  ablaze? 

Pluck  they  again  the  pale  wild  aster 
The  bending  plume  of  golden-rod? 

And  do  their  exiled  hearts  beat  faster, 
Roaming   in   thought  their  native  sod ; 

Dream  they  of  Canada,  crowned  and  golden, 
Flushed  with   her  autumn  diadem. 

In  years  to  come,  when  time  is  olden, 
Canada's  dream  shall  be  of  them; 

Shall  be  of  them  who  gave  for  others, 
The  ardor  of  their  radiant  years; 

Your  name   in    Canada's   heart,   my   brothers, 
Shall  be  remembered  long  with  tears. 

Some  of  these  poets  have  been  inspired  to 
verse  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives.  Miss 
Esther  Kerry,  a  young  lady  of  a  well-known 
and  gifted  family  of  Montreal,  who  served  in 
England  as  a  V.A.D.  nurse,  wrote  one  day  in 
London  these  happy  lines: 


He  is  a  Canadian — I  wonder  has  he  stood 

In  some  thick  forest,  on  a  mountain  slope, 

Silent  beneath  a  pine. 

And  looking  out  across  a  valley  seen 

Nothing  but  bristling  tree  trunks  far  below 

And  storm-scarred  grey  mountains 

Whose  snow-caps 

Rise  to  a  sun-swept  blue. 

He  is  a  Canadian — I  wonder  has  he  stood 

On  some  still  morning  by  a  tiny  lake 

And  watched  the  water  ripple  on  the  beach, — 

One  little  clearing 

In  the  mighty  woods — 

And  known  that  he  is  first  to  breathe  that  air 

Not  weighted  by  a  thousand  lives  and  thoughts, 

But  rare  and  pure, 

A  breathing  straight  from  God. 

Oh,   Canada,   of  bigness,   beauty,   strength, 
Whom  we  thy  wondering    children    know    as 

ne'er  before 
In  exile's  retrospect  of  glorious  hours, 
We  love  thee  with  a  love  we  never  felt  till  now, 
A  love  not  all  our  own,  a  heritage 
From  those  who  to  thy  shores  no  more  return. 
Their  love  of  thee,  unconscious,  pent, 
Which  drove  them  forth,  they  knew  not  why 
And  urged  them  on 
All  glad  for  thee  to  die. 
In  this  great  love  may  we  be  consecrate 



April,  1919. 

And  made  a  nation  new, 
Strong  as  thy  mountains, 
Generous  as  thy  plains, 
Pure  as  thy  winters, 
And  with  depths  unknown 
As  all  thy  forest  lakes — 
Still  pools  of  peace. 

And  a  lovely  lament  is  the  elegy  "A  Cry 
from  the  Canadian  Hills"  by  Lillian  Leveridge 
of  Carrying  Place,  Ont.,  over  her  young  brother 
Frank,  who  died  of  wounds  in  France: 

Laddie,    little   laddie,    come   with    me    over   the 

Where   blossom   the   white   May   lilies   and   the 

dogwood   and   daffodils ; 
For  the  spirit  of  spring  is  calling  to  our  spirits 

that  love  to  roam; 
Over  the  hills  of  home,   laddie,   over  the  hills 

of  home. 

Laddie,  little  laddie,  here's  hazel  and  meadow 

And  wreaths  of  the  rare  arbutus  ablowing  for 
me  and  you ; 

And  cherry  and  bilberry  blossoms  and  haw- 
thorn as  white  as  foam ; 

We'll  carry  them  all  to  mother,  laddie,  over 
the  hills  of  home; 

Brother,  little  brother,  your  childhood  is  pass- 
ing by, 

And  the  dawn  of  a  noble  purpose  I  see  in  your 
thoughtful    eye. 

Laddie,  soldier  laddie,  a  call  comes  over  the  sea, 
A  call  to  the  best  and  bravest  in  the  land  of 

To  shatter  the  despot's  power,  to  lift  up  the 

weak  that  fall ; 
Whistle  a  song  as  you  go,  laddie,  to  answer  your 

country's  call. 

Brother,  soldier  brother,   the  spring   has   come 

back  again; 
But  her  voice  from  the  windy  hilltops  is  calling 

your  name  in  vain ; 
For  never  shall  we  together,  mid  the  birds  and 

the  blossoms  roam, 
Over  the  hills  of  home,  brother,  over  the  hills 

of  home; 

Laddie,  Laddie,  Laddie !  How  dim  is  the  sun- 
shine grown ; 

As  Mother  and  I  together  speak  softly  in  ten- 
der  tone, 

And  the  lips  that  cpiiver  and  falter  have  ever  a 
single  theme. 

As  we  list  for  your  dear  lost  whistle,  laddie, 
over  the  hills  of  dream. 

Some  new  Western  men  have  written  well. 
Robert  J.  C.  Stead,  of  Calgary,  has  given  not- 
able  verses   on   "Kitchener,"   among   others   in 

his    volume    "Kitchener    and     Other     Poems." 
This  dirge  strikes  the  chord  of  Empire : 


Weep,  waves  of  England.     Nobler  clay 
Was  ne'er  to  nobler  grave  consigned; 

The  wild  waves  weep  with  us  today 
Who  mourn  a  nation's  master  mind. 

We  hoped  an  honored  age  for  him, 
And  ashes  laid  with  England's  great, 

And  rapturous  music,  and  the  dim 

Deep  hush  that  veils  our  Tomb  of  State. 

But  this  is  better.     Let  him  sleep 
Where  sleep  the  men  who  made  us  free, 

For  England's  heart  is  in  the  deep 
And  England's  glory    is  the  sea; 

One  only  vow  above  his  bier — 
One  only  oath  beside  his  bed — 

We  swear  our  flag  shall  shield  him  here 
Until  the  sea  gives  up  its  dead : 

Leap,  waves  of  England.     Boastful   be. 

And  fling  defiance  in  the  blast 
For  earth  is  envious  of  the  Sea, 

Which  shelters  England's  dead  at  last. 

Hyman  Edelstein,  a  young  Jew  of  Montreal, 
introduces  one  of  the  strangest  notes  of  the  in- 
credible contest,  when  he  voices  the  gratitude 
of  Canadian  Israel  regarding  the  Restoration  of 
Palestine, — the  re-wedding  of  the  Holy  Land 
to  the  Chosen  People, — in  which  indeed  a  num- 
ber of  our  young  Canadian  soldiers  took  part : 


From  Lebanon  comes  a  shout  of  glee. 
And    Carmel   echoes   long. 

And  Jordan  sings  with  a  newfound  rhyme 

And  the  valleys  ring  with  the  mingled  chime. 
As  the  trees  whirl  in  a  rustling  dance, 
Over  the  strange  divine  romance : 

Shulamith  and  her  lost  are  met — 

Zion  and  Judah  are  lovers  yet ! 

What  saith  the  Jordan  to  the  sea? 
And  thou.  Old  Kishon,  what  aileth  thee? 

Why  run  the  rivers  with  hurrying  gait? 

And  what   the  tidings  they   relate 
To  the  fields  that  can  no  longer  wait, 
And  the  woods  that  with  wild  joy  vibrate? — 

0  it  is  the  'Earth  of  Israel'  singing, 
Which  feels  the  tread  of  her  children's  feet, 
And  it  is  the  shout  of  the  strong  hills  ringing 
Which  thus  their  ancient  tenant  greet: 
Zion  is  free  !     Zion  is  free ! 
My  children,  my  children,  come  back  to  me ! 

Yielding  to  the  urgings  of  friends,  I  take  the 
anthologist's  privilege  of  inserting  some  lines 
of  mv  own : 

April,  L919 

r  \\   |/)/  |  \     BOOB  I/. I  \ 



Yet  Taint  above  the  din,  on  ether  borne, 
A  clear  voice  rang  the  ancient  battle  cries: 
"Freedom  and  honor!  truth  and  chivalry! 
St.  George,  defend  thy  pledges  unto  death! 
St.  George,  defend  tin-  weak,    and    save     the 

And  all  true  sons  of  Britain  felt  it  vain 
To  live,  unless  as  British  Imights  of  old, 

Then    lo!    with    reverence    and    pride    we    saw 
The  knights  of  old  appear, — Sir  Galahads, 
None  purer,  none  more  brave.     They  had  been 

Till  then  hut  as  the  schoolboys  of  the  camps, 
Carefree  and   merry,  warming  elder  blood 
By  pranks  of  diving,  reckless  climbing  feats 
Dp  sheerest  precipices.     Trackless  wilds 
Knew  them  as  tenters.     The  shy  beaver  heard 
Their  paddles  unafraid.     Widely  they  ranged 
The   peaks   and   dales  uncharted,   seeking    risks 
For  love  of  danger  and  the  jest  with  Death. 

Yesterday  they  were  children.     Scarcely  yet 
Knew  we  they  needed  less  our  tender  care, 
Until  some  grave  look  or  some  manly  deed 
Warned  us  the  soul  was  ripe.  We  pondered  then. 

So  came  the  world's  great  need  and  Honor's  call, 
And  silent,  modest,  up  they  rose  to  serve, — 
Then  in  our  wonder  we  beheld  them  men 
And  saw  the  Knights  of  Arthur's  Table  stand 
Before  us  in  their  sacred  panoply. 
Little  they  said  and  naught  delayed  their  go- 
Farewells  to  launch,  canoe,  fair  lake  and  range, 
A  tender  word  to  mother,  and  forth  they  fared, 
As  thousands  like  them   fared  from  lake    and 

Crusaders  of  the  Grail.       Rude    knights    were 

But  knightly  all :  God  loves  all  faithful  men. 

Galahads  of  the  camps !     For  this  you  learnt 
The  fearless  life  and  strenuous  company 
Of  the  wild  North,  contempt  of  hurt  and  cold, 
Joy  of  unmeasured  contest,  wit  to  meet 
Emergency,  deft  skill  and  steady  nerve. 
What  seemed  but  sport  was  training,  and  the 

Was  inner, — loyal  will  and  heart  humane. 
And  in  your  battles  you  remembered  oft 
The  mountains  of  the  Land  of  Manitou. 

Some  shall  return  with  honor,  henceforth  called 
The  heroes  of  the  world.  But  where  are  those 
Who  never  shall  return? 

Alas!  to  earthly  eyes  they  sleep  afar 
In  fields  of  glory  famed  to  end  of  time. 
Yet  ever  shall  they  clothe  these  leafy  hills 
With  visions  of  the  noblest  deeds  of  men 
And  hold  before  Canadian  youths  to  come 
The  quest  eternal  of  the  Holy  Grail. 

Having  now  taken  a  survey,  more  "r  less  in- 
complete,  of  our  war  verse,  we  may  try  to  meas- 
ure its  place  and  divine  its  future.  In  what 
qualities  docs  it  differ  from  the  large  and  well- 
developed  body  of  war  poetrj  of  the  rest  of  the 
English  speaking  world"  Two  interesting  com- 
parisons are  easily  made.  One  is  with  the  An- 
thology called  "Poems  of  Today"  in  which 
some  of  the  besl  things  of  the  recent  English 
poets  regarding  the  war  arc  collected:  the  other 
is  with  the  "Poems  and  Songs  of  the  South 
African  War"  brought  together  by  the  late  Dr. 
J,  1).  Borthwick  (who  was  somewhat  over  lib- 
eral in  his  inclusions).  The  great  South  Afri- 
can contest  looks  today  almost  an  excursion  by 
the  side  of  monstrous  Armageddon,  and  the  out- 
put of  verse  it  occasioned  might  be  contained  in- 
a  leaflet.  Yet  on  reflection,  its  national  and 
even  literary  impulse  was  not  negligible,  and 
had  a  much  larger  result  than  is  generally  sup- 
posed. And  it  had  a  definite  and  close  rela- 
tion to,  and  influence  upon,  our  part  in  Arma- 

In  technique,  only  a  small  part  of  our  poetry 
of  the  present  war  compares  with  the  product  of 
such  British  writers  as  Kipling,  Binyon,  Mase- 
field,  Rupert  Brooke,  Henry  Newbolt.  And 
in  volume,  it  is  of  course  but  a  little  stream. 
Perhaps  in  both  these  respects — technique  and 
volume — it  may  equal  the  work  of  the  poets  of 
the  United  States.  But  in  three  aspects  it  is 
unexcelled :  no  other  verse  is  more  bathed  in 
the  blood  and  agony  of  bitter  struggle :  none 
speaks  from  a  soul  of  more  uneompelled  and 
undiluted  chivalry ;  and  none  other  proceeds 
specifically  from  our  Canadian  point  of  view, 
and  so  to  speak  courses  directly  in  our  national 
veins.  It  has  indeed  a  notable  relation  to  the 
whole  present  and  subsequent  revolution  which 
the  war  is  bringing,  and  is  to  bring,  into  the  life 
of  nations.  All  over  the  world  these  common 
impulses  are  taking  form,  and  all  humanity  will 
surely  aim  at  closer  links  of  fraternity,  mercy, 
justice  and  liberty  and  the  attempt  to  establish 
a  better  world. 

It  is  bound  up,  too,  with  the  incoming  tide  of 
vital  changes  in  the  British  Commonwealth.  We 
have  made  it  clear  that  the  Empire  is  a  living 
family,  that  all  its  people  are  our  brethren,  all 
its  territory  our  country,  its  greatness  our  pride, 
its  unity  our  concern,  its  organization  one  of 
our  tasks,  its  future  one  of  our  grandest  hopes. 
Those  who  have  dreamed  the  British  Common- 
wealth would  fall  apart  have  proved  as  foolish 
as  those  who  proclaimed  that  chivalry  is  a  myth. 



April,  1919. 

The  office  of  our  war  verse  will  be  to  apply 
the  deep  lessons  of  the  struggle  to  the  making 
of  a  better  Canada  as  well  as  a  more  secure 
Empire.  Racial  passions,  appetites  for  domin- 
ation, ignorance,  cowardice,  materialistic  ideals, 
will  receive  strong  shocks  from  the  forces  of  the 
new  crusade;  and  the  next  generation  will  see 
many  resultant  changes  in  Canadian  affairs. 
Few  ideals  are  ever  perfectly  successful  here  be- 
low. But  just  as  certainly,  they  form  an  en- 
riching alloy  when  poured  into  the  baser  metal 
of  the  world :  and  just  as  certainly  the  world  is 
advanced  by  each,  to  some  extent.  The  law  of 
conservation  of  moral  energy  is  as  valid  and 
exact  as  the  law  of  conservation  of  physical  en- 
ergy. None  is  ever  lost.  Whoever  does  a  heroic 
deed,  whoever  enshrines  it  in  a  lyric  line,  have 
both  achieved  something  immortal  and  eternal 
in  their  influence.  The  poets  of  Confederation 
had  and  will  have  a  profound  though  noiseless 
influence.  So  will  the  War  School.  And  as  the 
war  is  a  greater,  wider,  nobler  event  for  us  than 
Confederation,  its  influence  will  be  so  much  the 

But  are  those  who  have  already  written  on 
the  War  the  whole  of  our  War  School  of  Can- 
adian poets?  Are  they  not  rather  the  precur- 
sors ?  In  Pisgah  view,  I  think  I  descry  the  real 
school  as  yet  to  come.  The  Confederation  Poets 
came  chiefly  after  Confederation.  The  War 
School  will,  I  believe,  appear  chiefly  after  the 
war.     Young  men  and  women  of  genius — some 

probably  returned  from  the  contest — will  cele- 
brate its  glorious  deeds,  will  drink  deep  inspir- 
ation from  that  brilliant  band  of  heroes  who  are 
already  beginning  to  render  our  circles  illustri- 
ous with  their  presence,  develop  the  depths  of 
feeling,  the  stirring  calls  to  action,  the  pictur- 
esque adventures,  the  world-wide  range  of  inter- 
ests, the  passion  for  true  living,  the  insistent 
calls  for  a  better  people,  for  improved  institu- 
tions, for  a  more  dignified  civilization,  worthy 
of  the  new,  hardwon  tradition  of  Canadian 
valor,  which  is  to  go  down  to  our  children  and 
children's  children. 

This  is  our  Homeric  Age.  There  never  will 
be  a  greater  fight.  There  never  will  be  a  vaster 
battlefield.  There  never  will  be  richer  experi- 
ences, more  terrible  shadows,  more  tragic  trials, 
more  glorious  courage,  more  splendid  triumphs, 
a  higher  tide  of  Empire,  a  worthier  cause  to 
live  and  die  for. 

The  art  of  song  cannot  hurriedly  attain  to  fit 
celebration  of  this  epic  period.  The  poets  may 
perhaps  not  yet  be  born  who  shall  invent  utter- 
ances that  shall  be  truly  worthy  of  the  innumer- 
able heroic  achievements,  the  Galahadic  dedi- 
cations to  the  supreme  sacrifice,  the  wonderful 
idealism  of  the  whole  crusade.  The  story  is  too 
grand  to  be  forgotten.  It  will  sound  the  trum- 
pet of  the  breast  until  it  finds  and  calls  out  our 
supreme  minstrel  to  supremely  chant  our  Idylls 
of  the  Heroes. 

Literary  Convention 


I     MET  a  sweet,  alluring  maid 
In  furbelows  of  fair  brocade. 
"0  come,"  I  said,  "enchanting  queen, 
Be  my  Romantic  Heroine. 

"Ah,  tempt  me  not,"  she  answered  low. 
"To  Editors  I  dare  not  go, 
For  each  of  them,  or  small  or  great, 
Demands  my  birth  certificate." 

' '  And  then,  he  cries — I  tell  you  true — 
'A  heroine? — at  thirty-two?' 
Discredited  your  Art  would  be 
Because  of  ancient,  doddering  me." 

April,  1919. 



Free  Verse  and  the  Parthenon 


ABOUT  the  beginning  of  the  Nineteenth 
Century  Pugin  proclaimed  certain  ideals 
in  architecture  regarding  honesty  of  treat- 
ment and  directness  in  design.  The  ideals  were 
preached  again  by  John  Ruskin  in  the  fifties, 
and  in  the  seventies  came  to  some  practical 
realization  in  the  work  of  William  Morris  and 
the  school  of  "Arts  and  Crafts."  They  have  so 
strong  a  resemblance  to  Ezra  Pound's  princi- 
ples for  poetry  as  to  encourage  some  compari- 
son  both  of  the  principles  themselves  and  of 
their  results. 

Ezra  Pound  says,  to  quote  from  the  Canadian 
Bookman,  "There  must  be  no  book-words,  no 
periphrases,  no  inversions  .  .  no  cliches,  set 
phrases,  no  inversions,  no  straddled  adjectives." 
His  ideals  are: — 

(1)  Direct   treatment. 

(2)  Use  absolutely  no  word  that  does  not 
contribute  to  the  presentation.  Use  no  super- 
fluous word,  no  adjective  which  does  not  re- 
veal something,  avoid  abstraction-1 

(3)  As  regards  rhythm,  compose  in  the  se- 
quence of  the  musical  phrase,  not  in  sequence 
of  a  metronome.  The  rhythm  must  correspond 
exactly  to  the  shade  of  emotion  to  be  expressed. 

These  principles  seem  truisms,  necessary  to 
all  good  prose  and  not  in  the  slightest  peculiar 
to  poetry,  but  their  application  has  led  Ezra 
Pound  to  "free  verse." 

The  architectural  principles  of  the  "Arts  a; id 
Crafts"  school  are,  in  corresponding  order: — 

(1)  Structural  treatment.  The  structure  is 
the  architecture. 

(2)  Use  no  ornament  that   does  not   contri- 
bute to  the   effect   and   avoid   all   meaningless, 
merely  archaeological  and  common-place  on.,, 

(3)  A  building  must  correspond  exactly  in 
structure  and  in  emotional  feeling  with  its  pur- 
pose. Its  architecture  must  not  conceal  that 

These  principles  are  as  unexceptionable  as 
the  former,  yet,  though  they  were  proclaimed  a 
century  ago,  they  have  not  yet  revolutionised 
architecture.  They  have  produced  some  very 
charming  results  in  domestic  architecture,  in 
furniture  and  in  similar  arts,  but  the  monu- 
mental building  still  relies  upon  old  forms. 

Of  course,  the  two  arts  are  ruled  by  differ- 
ent conditions.  The  poet  can  write  what  he 
likes  and  publication  is  not  necessary  to  his  art. 

The  architect  can  only  design  a  building  if 
somebody  wants  it.  A  mere  paper  design  is 
only  an  embryo;  actual  building  is  necessary  to 
develop  the  design.  The  difficulty  for  the 
architect  is  not  to  formulate  principles — that 
was  done  a  century  ago— but  to  practice  them. 
One  school  has  proclaimed  that  structure  is 
all  in  all.  If  we  construct  honestly,  ignoring 
mere  adhesive  ornament,  the  result  will  be  a 
truthful  expression  and  therefore  beautiful,  for 
"truth  is  beauty."  We  must  hide  nothing,  ig- 
nore nothing  and  add  nothing.     Thus  the  brick 


factory  building  is  the  "free  verse"  of  archi- 
tecture. And  very  like  some  "free  verse"  it 
is.  Yet  this  school  has  it  triumphs.  The  battle- 
ship is  constructed  on  just  these  principles  and, 
artistically,  is  an  expression  of  grim  power. 
The  Forth  Bridge  is  pure  structure  and  is 

Quite  apart  from  the  client's  prejudice,  there 
is  difficulty  in  building  a  city  on  these  lines. 
A  city  hall,  well  planned  and  honestly  built,  of 



April,  1919. 

sound  yellow  brick — and  nothing  else — would 
not  be  satisfactory.  Even  the  most  insurgent 
rebel  would  acknowledge  that  the  old-fashioned 
cliches  of  architecture,  the  "orders."  the  col- 
umns and  pediments,  do  add  something.  They 
may  be  poor  things,  they  might  be  improved 
upon,  but  they  are  better  than  nothing,  and  it 
is  very  hard  to  replace  them.  The  Corinthian 
capital  took  about  four  centuries  to  design  and 
it  is  difficult  to  produce  a  new  one  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment. 

So  let  us  look  at  the  cliche,  the  well-worn 
phrase.  Architecture  is  full  of  it.  The  whole 
apparatus  of  the  "orders,"  the  historic 
"styles."  the  crockets  and  pinnacles  and  tracery 

Nave      Looking      East,     Showing      the      Effect 
Unbroken    Continuation    of    the    Rhythm. 


windows,  what  are  they  all  but  cliches.  We  may 
try  to  keep  them  fresh,  to  use  them  honestly 
and  only  where  necessary,  but,  at  bottom  they 
are  old  forms  re-used  and,  so  far,  even  great 
artists  have  not  found  it  possible  to  dispense 
with  them. 

But  has  literature — good  literature— always 
done  without  the  cliche.  Homer  uses  it  freely. 
"Glaukopis  Athene,"  "dios  Odysseus,"  "Ton 
d'apameibomenos  prosephe."  Homer  is  in 
fact  full  of  early  journalese.  Even  the  Bible 
uses  well   worn  phrases — "Verily,  verily  I  say 

unto  you"  —  and  gains  power  thereby.  The 
"Phrase"  has  a  power.  Used  in  its  place  it 
produces  an  effect  which  could  not  otherwise 
be  produced.  It  is  a  justifiable  tool,  though  it 
may  be  abused. 

But  these  are  problems  of  all  good  writing  and 
do  not  go  to  the  root  of  poetry.  We  must  come 
to  the  more  important  problems  of  form  and 
rhythm.  Should  poetry  have  a  regular  form  and 
a  continuous  rhythm  or  should  form  and  rhythm 
vary  with  the  changing  thought  and  emotion  of 
the  poem?  In  architecture  we  distinguish  two 

The  Parthenon,  the  perfect  classic  building, 
is  complete  in  form.  It  cannot  be  added  to, 
nor  can  one  stone  be  taken  away  without  de- 
stroying the  artistic  unity  of  the  design.  The 
simple  rectangle  of  columns  is  bounded  below 
by  the  steps,  above  by  the  cornice.  The  roof 
and  eaves  are  unbroken  by  spire,  tower  or  pin- 
nacle. The  form  is  single  and  complete.  Built 
by  Greek  builders  ten  centuries  later,  the 
church  of  Santa  Sophia  at  Constantinople  is 
artistically  a  unit.  It  is  more  complex  than 
the  Parthenon,  but  it  is  still  an  indivisible  unit 
in  design.  Roman  art  is  dominated  by  the  same 
spirit.  The  greatest  of  all  Roman  buildings  is 
the  Pantheon.  It  is  a  unit  in  design.  No  part 
can  be  taken  away;  architecturally  there  are 
no  parts  to  take.  No  part  can  be  added,  there 
is  no  room  for  an  addition,  and  today  it  stands 
as  it  was  built  save  for  decoration. 

The  Northern  Cathedral  is  different.  We 
may,  and  our  ancestors  occasionally  did,  pull 
down  the  western  front,  add  a  few  bays  and 
build  a  new  facade.  We  may  add  a  choir,  aisles, 
chapels,  cloisters,  chantries,  in  what  profusion 
we  wish.  The  building  will  be  artistically  im- 
proved, for  its  beauty  is  in  diversity. 

This  tendency  seems  to  be  stronger  as  we  move 
from  South  to  North.  The  French  Cathedral 
has  more  unity  than  the  English,  though  less 
than  the  Parthenon. 

It  is  more  than  a  coincidence  that  this  is  also 
the  case  in  poetry.  The  strictest  form  of  poetry, 
the  sonnet,  is  Italian ;  the  looser  forms,  like  the 
ballad,  are  northern.  Classic  poetry  is  control- 
led by  syllables,  English  by  accents.  Perhaps 
we  may  even  venture  upon  a  definition  of  those 
much  abused  terms  "classic"  and  "romantic." 
Classic  is  the  formal  art  of  the  south,  loving 
perfection  and  unity,  romantic  is  the  looser  art 
of  the  north,  loving  richness  and  diversity.  Who 
shall  say  that  either  is  the  better? 

Now  as  to  rhythm.  All  good  architecture  is 
rhythmic.     Monumental  architecture  is  intense- 

April,  L919, 

(    i  \  i/'/.i.\    BOOR  1/  I  \ 

lv  and  regularly  so,  and  the  irregular  rhythms 

arc    only    to    be    found    in    domestic    and    in    un 

monumental  work. 
The  rhythms  of  a  cathedral  nave  are  easily 

analysed  in,  say,  Lincoln.  Dominant  is  Un- 
steady slow  heat  of  the  nave  arches,  soaring  to 
a  greal    pause  at   the  crossing,   then   subsiding 

to  the  steads  beat,  heat,  heat  of  the  choir. 
Above  is  the  doubled  heat  of  the  triforiiim,  twq 
beats  to  each  beat  of  the  nave,  then  a  pause 
whilst  we  pass  the  vaulting  pier,  then  again  two 

heats.        Beat,     beat      pause      heat,     beat-    pause. 

Above  this  again  is  the  complicated  rhythm  of 
clerestory    window    and    vault    alternating    in 


Nave     Looking     East,     Showing     the     Effect     of     a 

Sudden    Interruption    of   the    Rhythm. 

window — vault  bay — window,  often  very  com- 
plex but  dominated  by  the  steady  bass  accom- 
paniment of  the  nave  arcade.  As  in  simple 
music,  the  ornamentation,  the  rich  melody,  is 
above,  the  rhythmic  accompaniment  is  below. 
The  significant  ornaments,  the  painted  stories 
of  saints,  the  armorial  bearings  of  patrons,  are 
all  high  up  and  are  ruled  in  form  by  the  simple 
regular  measure  of  the  structure.  St.  Paul  may 
be  more  important  than  St.  Peter,  his  window- 
is  just   the  same  size. 

The   rhythm  of  the  Parthenon   is  very  simi- 
lar, but  simpler  and  more  exact.     Below  is  the 

steady  even  heat  of  the  columns,  above  is  the 

doubled  beal  of  the  triglyphs  and  metopes,  two 
accents  to  each  column  bay.  above  that  again 
the  quadruple  heal  of  the  mulules  all  bound  in 
at   the   lop   by    thi'   single   arrhythmic   line   (if   the 

cornice.  Here,  too.  the  rich  and  significant  orna- 
ment is  not  at  the  base,  but  high  up  on  the 
building  in  the  metopes  ami  pediment8.  It  is 
controlled  by  the  spacing  of  the  columns  and 
the  form  of  the  building.  The  wars  of  the 
Lapiths  and  the  Centaurs  have  to  accommodate 
themselves  to  the  squares  of  the  metopes; 
Athena  must  lie  born  in  a  triangle.  This  strict 
limitation  of  artistic  form  is  good  and  right,  nor 
could  we  imagine  it  otherwise. 

.lust  as  correct  metre  will  not  make  a  fine 
poem,  so  regular  rhythm  will  not  make  a  fine 
building.  When,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Greek 
revival,  copies  of  the  Parthenon  appeared  from 
Edinburgh  to  Nashville  (Tenn.),  they  were  all 
complete  failures.  The  subject  matter,  the 
strictly  tied  ornament,  could  not  be  reproduced. 
The  delicacies  of  curve  and  refinement  under- 
lying the  regular  columniation  were  overlook- 
ed and  without  these  the  copy  was-lifeless.  These 
copies  are  in  architecture  what  Pope's  "Iliad" 
is  in  poetry;  they  are  a  good  deal  too  correct. 
But  they  were  not  wrong  because  they  were 
rhythmic,  they  were  wrong  because  they  were, 
firstly,  uninteresting,  and  secondly,  in  the 
wrong  place. 

In  keeping  with  the  simplicity  of  all  Greek 
thought,  the  Parthenon  has  only  one  rhythmic 
form,  and  is  a  poem  in  a  single  metre,  varied 
with  the  most  exquisite  skill  without  ever  break- 
ing the  beat.  Our  English  cathedrals  have  many 
metres,  each  suited  to  its  purpose.  The  rhythms 
differ  in  nave  and  aisles  and  chapels,  but  in 
each  part  the  rhythm  is  consistent  and  unbrok- 
en. A  cathedral  is  a  poem  of  many  varying 

We  all  know  the  charm  of  the  irregular 
rhythm,  the  picturesque  farm  group  in  which 
each  piece  expresses  its  own  thought.  The  com- 
fortable house,  slightly  formal  in  its  door  and 
windows,  the  great  barn,  the  low  irregular  lines 
of  outbuildings,  and  perhaps  the  sudden  soar- 
ing of  a  windmill  or  a  watertower.  It  is  often 
very  beautiful,  with  the  beauty  of  natural  land- 
scape. We  may  indeed  ask :  Is  not  the  love  of 
landscape  in  art,  with  its  irregular  rhythms,  an- 
other Northern  manifestation  on  a  par  with  the 
informal  poetry  of  the  North?  Certainly  the 
modern  school  of  landscape  painting  arose  in 
England  and  the  great  landscape  painters  are 
northern.    Southern  and  classic  art  is  interested 



April,  1919. 

in  persons  more  than  in  nature,  in  form  more 
than  in  color. 

Ezra  Pound  does  not  care 
metronome.  Let  him  listen 
his  own  heart  and  he  will 
human  metronome.  A  very 
his  own  rhythm  and  he  w 
no  more.  It  is  little  wonder 
great  art  is  metronomic.  But 

for  the  beat  of  the 
to  the  beatings  of 
find  that  he  is  a 
slight  variation  in 
ould  write  poetry 
then  that  so  much 
should  the  thought 

vary  with  each  line?  Rhyme  has  no  doubt  often 
suggested  thought.  How  often  has  the  desire  for 
irregular  rhythm  led  to  irregular  thought?  Is 
not  rhythm,  regular  rhythm,  the  very  essence 
of  poetry?  No  monotonous  tum-tumming  or 
perfect  scansion,  but  the  steady  and  sustained 
beat  which  dominates  and  unifies  the  ornament. 
In  architecture  certainly  a  regular  rhythmic 
form  has  been  found  necessary  to  the  greatest 

Little  Grey  Mother 

By  J.  M.  GIBBON 


ITTLE  Grey  Mother !" 
So  they  have  named  her, 
No  one  has  tamed  her, 
No  one  has  shamed  her — • 
Grey  in  her  glory, 
Grey  in  her  story 
Of  sea-fight  and  foray, 
Grey  yet  so  sweet. 
Is  there  another 
Lighter  of  feet 

Than  the  Little  Grey  Mother? 

Little  Grey  Mother! 

Sweeter  her  flush  is 

Than  the  rose  blushes 

On  the  briar  bushes; 

Scent  of  the  heather, 

Mist  of  sea-weather 

Mingle  together 

Close  in  her  hair, 

Is  there   another 

One  half  so  fair 
As  the  Little  Grey  Mother? 

Little  Grey  Mother! 

Sweet  though  her  face  is, 

Sorrow  its  traces 

Scatters  in  places, 

Grey  hairs  and  furrows, 

Traces  of  arrows 

Barbed  with  tomorrows 

Shot  at  her  heart. 

Was  there  another 

Gay  counterpart 
Of  the  Little  Grey  Mother? 

Little  Grey  Mother! 
Mother  of  freemen, 
Mother   of   seamen, 
Fine  and  fair  women! 
Out  of  her  highlands, 
Lowlands  and  islands, 

Marshes  and  drylands 
Issues  her  brood. 
Is  there  another 
Redder  of  blood 
Than  the  Little  Grey  Mother? 

Little  Grey  Mother! 

Kin  to  the  seagull, 

Yet  never  eagle 

Held  heart  more  regal. 

All  that  have  sought  her 

Blood  on  seawater 

Rue  they  have  fought  her, 

Home  as  they  roll. 

Is  there  another 

Stouter   of   soul 
Than  the  Little  Grey  Mother? 

Little  Grey  Mother! 
Straight  as  her  hedges, 
Staunch  as  her  pledges, 
Honour  her  wages, 
Faith  her  high  altar — 
None  that  could  halt  or 
Force  her  to  falter, 
True  to  the  end. 
Is  there  another 
Faithfuller  friend 

Than  the  Little  Grey  Mother? 

Little  Grey  Mother! 

Grey  in  her  glory, 

Grey  in  her  story 

Of  sea-fight  and  foray — 

Who  would  her  splendour 

Lightly  surrender? 

Who  but  defend  her, 

True  Paladin? 

Is  there  another 

Worthier  Queen 
Than  the  Little  Grey  Mother? 

•"Little  Grey  Mother"  is  a  title  employed  in  British 
Columbia  to  designate  the  Mother  Country — England. 

April.  1919. 

C  I  A  I/'/. I  \    BOOK  l/l  \ 


Some  Canadian  Illustrators 


FOUR  months  of  peart-  have  Followed  four 
years  of  war.  and  illustrators  in  Can 
ada  face  improved  prospects.  While 
Mars  was  dictator  and  every  force  was 
concentrated  to  fill  the  requirements  of  his 
regime,  Art  marked  time,  save  in  a  branch 
which  promises  to  play  an  important  part  dur- 
ing the  period  of  reconstruction— the  poster. 
While  Canada  overseas,  through  the  War  Mem- 
orials, gave  employment  to  many  British  paint- 
ers, so  at  home  the  Dominion  Government  by 
poster  competi- 
tions gave  illustra- 
tors a  chance  to 
employ  their  tal- 
ents. The  Vic- 
tory Loan  cam- 
paigns in  large 
measure  depended 
on  publicity,  both 
press  and  bill- 
board, and  this  oc- 
casion revealed  a 
talent  in  this  di- 
rection hitherto 
unsuspected.  Can- 
adian bill-boards 
in  the  past  have 
been  things  of 
utility,  but  not  of 
aesthetic  delight, 
save  when  some 
particularly  artis- 
tic theatrical  bills 
have  had  their 
one  -  week  life. 
With  the  Victory 
Loans  the  bill- 
boards glowed 
with  color  and  ef- 
fective designs. 
Those  who  are 
promoting  cam- 
paigns for  post- 
war work  are  also 
appreciating  the 
necessity  of  pos- 
ters    in     bringing 

their  claims  and  needs  to  the  notice  of  the  pub- 
lic. The  War  Savings  Stamp  poster  by  Frank 
Nicolet,  who  won  the  last  Victory  Loan  poster 
prize,  on  that  occasion  utilizing  the  sentimental 
appeal  of  the  late  Lieut. -Col.  John  McCrae's 
poem  "In  Flanders  Fields,"  is  an  effective 
work.  It  seems  a  pity  that  these  posters,  in 
common  with  much  that  is  striking  in  commer- 
cial advertising,  have  no  place  on  the  sheet  for 
the  signatures  of  the  artists.  This  is  in  marked 
contrast  to  the  practice  in  England  and  on  the 
Continent,  where,  by  giving  what  is  only  the 
designer's  due,  a  group   of   poster  artists  has 

A    "Dingbat"    Drawing    by    Dudley    Ward. 

been  developed.  This  realization  of  the  value 
of  the  poster  in  making  appeals  to  the  "man  in 

the  street"  promises  another  avenue  of  en- 
deavor to  Canadian  illustrators,  for  which  work 
several  are  eminently  qualified. 

These  posters  in  a  national  cause  are  an 
effective  reply  to  that  argument  so  often  ad- 
vanced that  where  the  striking  and  novel  is 
required  one  has  to  <ro  to  the  United  States  for 
it.  It  must  be  admitted  that  thus  far  we  have 
not  produced  any  illustrator  who  is  the  creator 

of  a  type ;  we  have 
00  Gibson,  Christy, 
Flagg  or  Boileau 
"girls,"  nor  can 
we  point  to  a 
draughtsman  of 
Rackham's  calibre, 
whose  grotesques 
are  so  effective. 
The  "Kewpie"  is 
an  American  pro- 
duet,  and  so  is  the 
though  its  creator, 
Palmer  Cox,  was 
born  in  Canada. 
But  in  evolving  a 
type  of  this  latter 
order  we  have 
working  among  us 
todav  Dudley 

This  artist,  a 
Torontonian  by 
residence,  besides 
his  illustrations  of 
a  miscellaneous 
character  is  best 
known  by  his 
whimsical  pictures 
of  the  "Ding- 
bats," —  fantastic 
gnome  -  like  fig- 
ures. Mr.  Ward, 
who  for  the  past 
nine  years  has  re- 
sided in  Canada, 
was  born  in  Staffordshire,  England,  and  com- 
menced his  art  career  at  the  age  of  fourteen. 
He  studied  under  Tom  Browne,  and  at  South 
Kensington,  Amsterdam  and  Brussels.  Recog- 
nition did  not  come  without  a  struggle,  and  he 
made  his  entry  into  the  illustrated  periodical 
world  through  the  pages  of  the  English  comic 
paper  "Ally  Sloper. "  He  created  a  Prehis- 
toric Slopcr  which  enjoyed  some  popularity  un- 
til the  artist  responsible  for  the  drawing  of  the 
title  character  on  the  front  page  of  the  paper 
objected  to  Mr.  Ward's  drawing  Ally  in  any 
shape  or  form.     Undaunted,  Mr.  WTard  created 



April,  1919. 

the  "Dingbats,"  which  jumped  into  instant 
favor.  In  Everywoman's  World,  Toronto,  ap- 
pears his  creation  the  "Jollikens, "  a  phase  of 
his  art  work  which  he  regards  as  his  hobby.  His 
work  has  appeared  in  "Ally  Sloper"  and  most 
of  the  English  humorous  magazines,  and  in  the 
Sketch,  Illustrated  London  News,  and  Bystand- 
er. In  Canada  he  has  contributed  to  Maclean's, 
the  Courier,  Canada  Weekly,  the  Christmas 
issues  of  the  Toronto  Globe,  and  Everywoman's 

An  artist  who  has  done  much  illustrating 
since  his  return  from  England,  where  he  was 
engaged  in  Canadian  War  Records  work,  is 
Chas.  W.  Simpson,  A.R.C.A.  Better  known 
as  a  painter  and  etcher,  Mr.  Simpson  has,  with 
a  modest  and  artistic  "S, "  signed  colored  cov- 
ers and  booklet  designs  of  excellence.  His  ex- 
perience overseas  he  is  now  turning  to  good 
account  in  illustrating  stories  for  The  Vet- 
eran. Mr.  Simpson  was  born  in  Montreal, 
and  studied  under  Mr.  William  Brymner, 
C.M.G.,  R.C.A.,  past  president  of  the*  Royal 
Canadian   Academy,   and   E.    Dyonnet,   R.C.A., 

Illustration    to    "The    Rhyme    Garden,"    Marguerite 
Buller    Allan. 

— Courtesy  John  Lane. 

and  later  in  New  York,  at  the  Students'  Art 
League  under  a  Canadian  master,  George  B. 
Brigden.  He  was  elected  an  Associate  of  the 
Royal  Canadian  Academy  in  November  1913. 
Works  by  this  artist  have  been  purchased  by 
the  Advisory  Arts  Council  for  the  Canadian 
National  Gallery  at  Ottawa. 

W.  T.  Topham,  who  saw  active  service  as  a 
Gunner  with  the  1st  Siege  Battery,  and  has 
used  material  gathered  at  the  front  for  paint- 
ings which  have  been  shown  at  exhibitions  at 
the  Art  Association  of  Montreal,  and  the  Royal 
Canadian  Academy,  has  done  illustrative  work 
of  a  general  character.  He  has  contributed 
England,  and  Town  and  Country  and  The 
The  Veteran,  Montreal,  had  a  striking  cover 
by  him — a  Canadian  soldier  on  the  top  of  a 
ridge,  the  flash  of  a  bursting  shell  forming  a 
Maple  leaf.  Mr.  Topham  was  born  in  England, 
and  studied  at  the  Derby  School  of  Art  and 
under  L.  L.   Goldie,  an  English  watercolorist. 

He  also  spent  six  months — 1908-09 — at  the 
Secessionist  schools  in  Berlin.  He  came  to  Can- 
ada about  nine  years  ago.  Recently  the  Cana- 
dian War  Memorials  purchased  fifty  sketches 
of  a  military  nature,  either  done  by  him  at  the 
front  or  from  jottings  made  while  in  khaki. 

Canada  has  ground  for  legitimate  pride  in 
her  illustrators,  and  that  the  list  is  not  longer  is 
due  to  the,  comparatively  speaking,  limited 
opportunities.  There  will  be  additions  to  their 
ranks  when  this  Dominion  takes  its  place  as  a 
publishing  centre — when  the  presses  are  print- 
ing the  original  works  of  native  writers,  and  are 
less  occupied  with  Canadian  editions  of  pro- 
ducts from  overseas.  Without  a  canvass  it  is  a 
safe  assumption  that  writers  and  artists  in  Can- 
ada have  pride  in  this  Dominion  and,  all  being 
equal,  would  rather  have  their  work  given  its 
premiere  here.  Many  in  both  branches,  how- 
ever, have  made  connections  across  the  border 
where  aggressive  publicity  and  circulation  meas- 
ures, and  old  established  organization,  promise 
the  quickest  success,  and  this  is  not  the  age 
when  writer,  artist,  or  actor  would  rather,  on 
patriotic  grounds,  starve  in  Canada  than  eat 
regularly  in  the  United  States. 

The  next  few  years  will  probably  see  an  in- 
crease in  the  number  of  weekly  and  monthly 
publications,  and  the  illustrators  who  contribute 
to  them  will  not  be  faced  with  the  problems  with 
which  the  designers  had  to  wrestle  twenty  years 
ago.  The  development  of  process  printing  has 
gone  forward,  and  the  artist  can  now  submit 
designs,  in  color  which  can  be  reproduced  with 
all  the  touch  and  character  of  the  original  draw- 
ing. Designers  working  in  Canada  today  will 
recall  the  almost  scandalized  attitude  of  pub- 
lishers when  a  drawing  in  two  primary  colors 
was  submitted — the  cost  was  counted  almost 
prohibitive.  In  that  day,  too,  the  zinc  etching 
was  most  favored  on  economical  grounds — its 
easy  production  and  its  certainty  to  give  satis- 
factory results  on  even  the  poorest  paper  being 
the  decisive  arguments  for  it.  That  day  is 
passing,  and  the  artist  can  now  devote  himself 
to  designs  and  pictures  without  being  harassed 
by  what  the  engraver  and  printer  cannot  do. 

The  future  of  the  illustrator  and  designer 
has  seldom  been  more  promising  than  it  is  today. 

The  consideration  of  the  Canadian  illustra- 
tors in  the  United  States  might  suggest  that  the 
Open  Sesame  is  "Hamilton."  Arthur  William 
Brown,  B.  Cory  Kilvert,  Arthur  Crisp,  Arthur 
Heming  (as  respects  his  early  training),  all  hail 
from  Hamilton.  Jay  Hambidge  was  born  at 
Simcoe,  Ont.,  Palmer  Cox,  of  "Brownie"  fame, 
boasts  Granby,  Que.,  as  his  birthplace,  Norman 
Price  was  born  at  Brampton,  Ont.,  Philip  Boil- 
eau  was  a  native  of  Quebec,  John  Conacher,  a 
Scotsman  by  birth,  settled  when  young  in  To- 
ronto, H.  J.  Mowat  is  a  native  of  the  Maritime 
Provinces.  There  are  probably  other  Canadians 
doing:  illustrative  work  in  the  United  States, 
but  the  few  mentioned  have  established  them- 
selves and  are,  or  have  been,  regular  contribu- 
tors to  the  best  periodicals. 

April,  1919. 

i    I A  \l>l  LA    nonix  1/  I  \ 


Jay  Hambidge  for  many  years  contributed 
to  The  Century,  McClure's,  Colliers  and  Har- 
per's. Born  in  Simcoe,  Ont.,  he  received  his 
art  education  a1  the  An  Students'  League,  and 
under  William  M.  Chase,  New  Vm-k.  He  qow 
gives  his  attention  to  lecturing  and  writing  on 
the  philosophical  aspects  of  Art,  ami  on  theories 
of  design.  Ho  is  a  member  of  the  Society  of 
Illustrators,  New  York,  and  of  the  Graphic  Art 
Club,  Toronto. 

Arthur  Hearing  is  at  present  living  in 
Canada,  hut  his  chief  illustrative  work 
has  appeared  in  American  publications 
He  was  horn  in  Paris,  Out.,  ami  reel 
his  early  art  training  at  the  Ham 
Art  School,  where  he  subsequently 
became  a  teacher,  ami  continued 
his  study  at  the  Art  Students' 
Lea-rue,  New  York,  ami  in  Lon- 
don. He  was  first  employed  as 
an  illustrator  on  the  staff  of  the 
Dominion  Illustrated  ami 
afterwards,  as  a  free  lance. 
did  a  large  amount  of  illus- 
trating of  a  miscellaneous 
character.  He  was  sent 
by  Messrs.  Harper  to  ac- 
company Casper  Whit- 
ney to  the  harren 
grounds  of  Canada  as 
illustrator.  He  is  fond 
of  the  out-of-doors,  and, 
in  quest  of  artistic  ma- 
terial, has  patrolled 
with  the  Koyal  North- 
West  Mounted  Police, 
and  travelled  by  pack 
train  in  the 
Rocky  Moun- 
tains. Travel 
has  interest- 
ed him,  and 
it  has  been 
immate  rial 
what  means 
were  employ- 
ed. Incident- 
ally he  has 
covered  550 
miles  by  raft, 
1,100  by  dog 
team,  1,700 
on  s  n  o  w~ 
shoes  and  3,- 
300  by  canoe,  *Ji 
This  experi- 
ence has  fur- 
nished him  with  a  wealth  of  material,  and 
he  has  published  articles  and  illustrations 
in  the  leading  Canadian,  English,  French,  Ger- 
man and  American  publications.  He  is  the 
author  of  a  novel,  "Spirit  Lake,"  and  is  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Society  of  Illustrators,  New  York. 
His  work  possesses  a  distinct  Canadian  individ- 
uality. An  example  of  his  recent  illustrating 
work  appeared  in  the  last  issue  of  the  Cana- 
dian Bookman. 

Illustration   by   Chas.  W.  Simpson, 

— By  courtesy  of  "The  Veteran. 

John    Conacher    is    <>i f    the     best      pen 

draughtsmen  in  the  United  states,  and  his 
work  Inis  appeared  in  Life,  Punch,  Scribner's, 
Harper's  and  Judge  among  other  publications. 

It  is  sound  in  technique,  full  of  character,  and 
'tis  style  is  akin  to  lie  best  English  work.  .Mr. 
Conacher    was    horn    at    St.    Andrews.    Scotland, 

ami  was  brought  to  Canada  when  eight  years 

o'd.     He  studied  drawing  under  William  Cruick- 
!..    at    the   old    Ontario    Society    of     Artists 

school  in  Tor 

onto.        and 
joined       t  h  c 

Art   Staff  of 
the      New 

York    Herald 
twenty  years 
of   age.     Mr. 
Charles     W. 
Jeffreys    was 
a  confrere  al 
that   time  on 
the      s  a  in  e 
journal.   Lat- 
er   he    work 
ed     for    the 
P  rank      A. 
Munsey  pub- 
lications, and 
„  afterw  ard  s 
did     illustra- 
t  i  o  n  s      for 
Harper      and 
Brothers.  The 
work     that 
appeals       to 
most  is  the  original 
ings  which  he  con- 
butes     to     Life    and 

an  Price  was 
born  in  Hrampton,  Ont.. 
and  studied  art  in  the 
Ontario  School  of  Art. 
followed  by  practical 
work  for  the  Grip  Company.  Later 
he  went  with  some  kindred  spirits 
to  England  on  a  cattle  boat,  and  in 
London  the  little  band  formed  a 
business  which  they  called  the 
Carleton  Studios  and  did  a  wide 
variety  of  art  work.  Messrs.  Jack 
of  Edinburgh  then  commissioned 
Mr.  Price  to  illustrate  "Lamb's 
Tales  from  Shakespeare" — twenty 
picture  in  color,  one  of  which  was 
exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy. 
In  1909  he  went  to  Paris  and  studied  at  Julian's. 
under  Jean  Paul  Laurens  and  Richard  Miller. 
an  American  painter,  whose  pictures  hang  in 
the  leading  galleries  on  the  Continent,  and  in 
the  United  States.  On  his  return  to  London  he 
illustrated  a  '•Children's  Tennyson."  and  also 
did  many  colored  illustrations  for  the  follow- 
ing series:  "Days  with  Wagner,"  "Chopin," 
"Mendelssohn,"  "Christmas  Bells,"  "A  Leg- 
end of  Jerusalem."  "The  Joy  of  the  Lord," 




April,  1919. 

"Scott,"  "Mrs.  Browning,"  "Kingsley,"  and 
many  colored  paper  covers  for  books.  In  1911 
he  went  to  the  United  States  and  in  1913 
started  free  lance  work.  He  has  done  illustra- 
tions for  the  Century,  the  American  Magazine, 
covers  and  drawings  for  St.  Nicholas,  Harp- 
er's Magazine,  Harper's  Bazaar,  Red  Cross 
Magazine,  and  The  Canadian  Home  Journal. 
The  Century  Company  has  published  the  fol- 
lowing books  with  his  illustartions :  "The  Dere- 
lict," and  "The  Second  Fiddle,"  by  Phylis  Bot 
tome,  and  "The  Return  of  the  Soldier,"  by 
Rebecca  West.  His  best  known  commercial 
work  is  his  Victrola  advertisements. 

Of  the  younger  men,  the  work  of  Arthur  Wil- 
liam Brown  has 
met  with  especial 
favor.  He  is  at 
the  moment  the 
most  prominent 
.  Canadian  illustra- 
tor in  the  United 
States.  He  is  ap- 
parently a  prolific 
worker  and  his 
illustrations  ap- 
pear in  the  Satur- 
day Evening  Post, 
and  of  late  in 
Scribner's.  He  was 
born  in  Hamilton 
in  1881,  and  in 
1901  went  to  New 
York,  where  he 
studied  at  the  Art 
Students'  League 
for  one  year.  He 
works  now  for 
practically  every 
well-known  mag- 
azine in  the  coun- 
try except  those 
owned  by  Hearst. 
He  did  the  draw- 
ings for  "Seven- 
teen" by  Booth 
Tarkington,  and 
he  also  did  effec- 
tive illustrations  Illustration  by 
for  Tarkington 's  —By 
later  story,    "The 

Magnificent  Anibersftns, "  which  was  review- 
ed in  the  last  issue  of  the  Canadian  Bookman. 
He  is  a  member  of  the  Committee  on  Public 
Information.  This  Division  makes  all  the  post- 
ers and  drawings  for  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment, Red  Cross,  and  other  war  activities. 

B.  Cory  Kilvert,  author  of  "The  Kite  Book" 
and  of  "Kilverts'  Kids,"  is  a  native  of  Hamil- 
ton and  studied  at  the  Art  Students'  League, 
New  York.  Incidentally  he  won  a  cash  prize  of 
$500  for  the  best  humorous  drawing  in  the  lar- 
gest calendar  competition  ever  held  in  the  Unit- 
ed States,  and  a  cash  prize  of  $250  was  also 
awarded  him  for  the  best  illustration  of  a  fam- 
iliar quotation.  He  specializes  in  the  drawing  of 

1  HI                                                          W'ftk 



W* 1  '■  , ' 

BK  *~ 

1    %•                                    & 


children,  and  his  work  has  appeared  in  the 
leading  American  and  Canadian  publications. 
He  has  also  drawn  cartoons  for  the  New  York 
Evening  World  and  other  dailies. 

Arthur  Crisp,  a  Hamiltonian,  has  devoted  his 
talent  to  a  phase  of  art  which  is  not  strictly 
illustration.  Some  very  good  covers  for  maga- 
zines have  been  designed  by  him,  but  they  were 
more  in  the  nature  of  decorative  studies  than  of 
illustrations.  His  talent  for  effective  composi- 
tion has  been  employed  in  painting  and  mural 
decoration,  to  which  he  is  now  giving  his  whole 
attention.  His  work  is  represented  in  the  Can- 
adian National  Gallery  at  Ottawa. 
The   late  Philip   Boileau,   whose   "girls"   on 

the  covers  of  the 
Saturday  Evening 
Post  appealed  to 
those  who  sought 
the  pretty  when 
"heads"  were  all 
the  rage,  was  a 
native  of  Quebec, 
and  received  his 
art  education  in 

Palmer  Cox,  al- 
though a  natural- 
ized Americ  a  n , 
was  born  at  Gran- 
by,  Que.,  in  1840. 
He  followed  rail- 
roading and  con- 
tracting in  Cali- 
fornia in  early  life 
and  contributed 
articles  to  publica- 
tions in  that  State. 
He  went  to  New 
York  in  1875  and 
took  up  writing 
and  illustrating 
for  child  r  e  n  '  s 
magazines.  He  is 
the  creator  of  the 
"  Brownie  Peo- 
ple," and  the 
Brownie   books. 

H.  J.  Mowat  has 
done  much  excel- 
lent work  in 
Scribner's  during  the  last  four  or  five  years. 
He  is  now  overseas  doing  work  for  the  Canadian 
War  Records  Office,  after  serving  for  some 
time  with  the  Canadian  Artillery  at  the  front. 
While  the  war  may  have  had  an  adverse 
effect  on  painting  as  such,  it  brought  the  gov- 
ernments of  the  world  to  a  realization  of  the 
importance  of  the  artist  in  the  community  and 
gave  many  an  opportunity  to  show  their  power 
as  propagandists. 

The  newspaper  cartoon,  outside  the  scope  of 
this  article,  long  recognized  as  a  powerful 
weapon,  was,  during  the  war,  ably  supported 
by  the  poster,  showcard,  and  painting. 

These  lessons  learned  will  not  be  forgotten. 

Thurston    Topham. 

courtesy  of  "The  Veteran.' 

April.   1919. 

CANADIAN    BOOK  \l  I  \ 


First  Aid  to  Songsmiths 

By  J.  A.  McNEIL 

MEMBERS  of  the  Ports'  I,,,,,,,  have  long 
had  the  assistance  of  rhyming  diction 
aries,  but  no  corresponding  provision 
has  been  made  for  the  writers  of  popular 
songs.  This  compilation  of  verse  terminations 
favored  by  acknowledged  masters  of  various 
schools  of  American  songwriters  for  the  past 
seven  decades,  with  their  periods  of  popular- 
ity approximately  indicated,  is  offered  in  the 
confident  belief  that  their  employment  will 
enable  the  aspiring  lyricist  of  the  masses  to 
re-create  not  only  the  form  but  the  spirit  of 
any  particular  school. 

The  Stephen  Foster  or  negro  minstrel  song. 




Black  Joe 






home        gal 


honey         cry 

roam        Sal 


money        die 

come         youall        poor 

funny        shoofly 

The  lugubrious  ballad  of    the  lost  love.  1860- 

valley  heaven  dale 

Hallie  forgiven  vale 

dally  oblivion  pale 

Nellie  eleven  (J)  wail 

September  (2) 
November  (3) 
December  (*) 

The  sweetly  pretty  song.     1870-1880. 



forgive  her 
never  (5) 


The  Irish  song,  love  or  comic.     1875-1885. 


green  (8) 
seen  (7) 

avick,  lick 
shtick,  pick 
brick,  Mick 
kick,  etc.,  ad  lib. 

The  sedimental  ballad.     1885-1900. 





The   tough   hoy   and   girl   song.      1894-1 

Bowery  spieler  pearl 

Elowerj  Delia  girl 

showery  heeler  whirl 

how 're  yer  steal  her  squirrel  (") 

The  cake-walk  or  ragtime  coon  Bong.  1S98-1910. 

lady  Tennessee  cake 

baby  levee  shake 

maybe  Mississippee  date 

shady  fricassee  sake 

The  Indian  and  cowboy  song.     1903-1907. 

Wanna  Navajo  maid 

goner  Idaho  cave 

fonder  wahoo  braid 

honor  Antonio  (•)  shade 

The  Turkey  trot  or  tango  tune.      1910-1916. 

doing  it 


oh  you  kid 

make   a  hit 


never  did 

sling  your  feet 


lift  the  lid 

throw  a  fit 


watch  us  skid 

honey  bug 

baby  doll 


bunny  hug 

let  me  fall 

holy  gee 

The  near  Hawaiian  song.     1914-1917. 

hula  hula 






fool  yuh 


O 'Haley 

hickey  bula 



The   great  American  war  ball 

ad.    1917-1919. 


son,    sun 



won,  done, 



sun,  gone 



Hun,  run 

before  me 

The  Great  American  post-war  song   (1919-?)  : 

beauty  gob  nurse 

duty  job  worse 

cootie  Schwab  hearse 

treat  'cm  rough  shimmie,  shimmie 

eat  'em  tough  gimme,  gimme 

beat  'em  'nuff  Jimniie,  Jimmie 

ou,  la,  la, 
comme  gi,  comme  ga 
hello,  paw. 

(i)   Number  of  years  since  she  died.   (2)   They  met. 
(3)    They  parted.    (4)    She   died   of   grief, 
(s)   Always  preceded  by  "forget  her." 
(»)  Preceded  by  "isle  of."  (7)  Preceded  by  "iver. " 

(8)  This  may  be  pronounced  so  as  to  give  a  perfect 

(9)  "Preceded   by   "San." 



April,  1919. 

On  the  Deterioration  of  Literary 
Style  After  Death 


ONE  of  the  most  interesting,  though  also 
most  distressing,  features  of  that  particu- 
lar variety  of  the  future  life  exhibited 
by  Dr.  A.  D.  Watson  of  Toronto  in  his  book, 
"The  Twentieth  Plane"— but  one  to  which  the 
author  himself  appears  singularly  blind—  is  the 
astounding  deterioration  which  the  faculties  of 
verbal  expression  undergo  after  a  period  of  re- 
sidence in  the  monotonously  pink  atmosphere  of 
the  latest  substitute  for  heaven.  After  a  care- 
ful perusal  of  the  1918  utterances  of  Victor 
Hugo,  Shelley,  Shakespeare,  Coleridge,  Words- 
worth, Meredith  and  a  score  of  others  whose 
work  when  on  earth  won  them  high  distinction 
as  masters  of  style,  I  am  reluctantly  forced  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  is  something  either  in 
the  pink  light  of  the  upper  strata  of  astral  so- 
ciety, or  in  the  habit  of  wearing  an  aura  instead 
of  a  top-hat,  or  in  the  nervous  strain  of  being 
continually  on  the  hop  to  answer  the  call  of  the 
latest  ouija  board — or  perhaps  in  all  combined 
— which  exerts  a  paralysing  effect  upon  the 
sense  of  word-values  and  the  power  of  rhythmic 

I  believe  this  observation  of  mine  to  be  new, 
and  to  be  important.  It  has  often  been  pointed 
out  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  astral  strata,  so 
far  as  they  have  deigned  to  communicate  with 
us,  have  proved  to  be  sadly  lacking  in  any  ideas 
which  could  be  of  utility  (I  do  not  mean  merely 
practical,  but  artistic,  spiritual,  social,  moral) 
upon  this  planet ;  and  to  this  it  has  been  answer- 
ed, plausibly  enough,  that  under  totally  differ- 
ent conditions  from  ours,  ideas  may  have  totally 
different  values  —  that  our  commonplace  may 
be  the  Twentieth  Plane's  highest  wisdom,  and 
vice  versa.  But  the  principles  of  expression  in 
English  and  the  values  of  English  words  and 
phrases  can  hardly  vary  even  among  departed 
spirits  so  long  as  they  communicate  in  English 
and  retain  a  lively  interest  in  English  literature 
— and  Dr.  Watson's  astral  visitants  were  so 
keen  about  English  literature  that  they  were 
constantly  asking  him  to  read  them  his  latest 
poems  and  those  of  sundry  other  Toronto  versi- 
fiers, and  exhibited  the  liveliest  admiration 
thereof.  Thus  I  am  driven  to  the  conclusion 
that   the   absolutely   inartistic   character   of   the 

language  used  by  Shakespeare  and  Wordsworth 
in  Dr.  Watson's  parlor  in  Toronto  last  year  was 
due  to  an  unconscious  but  serious  deterioration 
of  the  language  facility.  Nor  is  this  unreason- 
able, when  we  consider  that  the  uses  of  language 
in  these  upper  strata  are  evidently  much  cur- 
tailed. Thus  for  example,  when  Dorothy  Words- 
worth wants  a  new  chair  in  her  bedroom  she 
does  not  go  to  a  furniture  dealer  and  describe 
the  kind  of  chair  she  wants  to  have,  nor  even 
to  the  lumber-yard  and  describe  the  kind  of 
wood  she  wants  to  make  it  of,  and  the  quantity 
that  it  will  need;  she  merely  "thinks  a  chair," 
evolving  it  out  of  her  inner  consciousness,  a  pro- 
cess in  which  no  word  is  necessary ;  and  this  is 
doubtless  typical  of  the  simplification  of  life 
and  the  elimination  of  talk  in  the  spheres  above 
— though  it  is  to  be  noted  that  lectures,  on  a 
sort  of  mutual-improvement-society  basis,  are 
frequent  and  well-attended. 

I  have  said  "unconscious  deterioration,"  be- 
cause as  a  matter  of  fact  all  of  the  eminent  lit- 
erary deceased  who  visited  Dr.  Watson's  circle 
seem  to  have  been  rather  pleased  than  other- 
wise with  their  latest  achievements  as  talkers, 
orators  and  writers.  They  are  all  still  engaged 
in  the  production  of  works  of  literature,  and 
very  proud  indeed  of  what  they  are  producing. 
In  .fact  I  should  be  inclined  to  fear  that  as  a 
result  of  the  Watsonian  communication-line  the 
firm  of  McClelland  and  Stewart  might  become 
the  outputters  of  a  vast  mass  of  posthumous 
Shakespeare,  Shelley,  Wordsworth,  Dante,  Sam- 
uel Johnson  and  Goethe,  of  very  inferior  qual- 
ity, were  it  not  for  the  serious  obstacle  of  the 
impossibility  of  remitting  royalties  to  the  Twen- 
tieth Plane  and  the  still  more  serious  obstacle  of 
the  impossibility  of  collecting  guarantees  from 
the  same  place.  Victor  Hugo,  for  example,  is 
convinced  that  the  language  employed  by  these 
astral  personages,  which  he  calls  "ideographic," 
is  similar  in  kind  to  the  more  vividly  pictorial 
of  his  own  earthly  descriptive  passages,  only 
much  better.  He  tells  the  Watsonians  to  look 
up  his  description  of  a  storm  at  sea  in  "Ninety- 
three,"  "because  one  who  wishes  to  become  con- 
versant with  the  ideographic  picture  style  of 
writing  should  study  it."     Now,  according  to 

April.  1919. 

C  l  \  iDIAN    BOOKMAA 

Dr.  Watson,  the  "ideographic  picture  Btyle  of 
writing"  is  whal  the  Planers  use  to  convey 
ideas  to  present-day  Toronto,  bul  1  cannol  im- 
agine  anything  more  unlike  the  majestic  accum 
ulation  of  logical  and  clearly-related  similes 
which  constitutes  a  typical  paragraph  of  the 
earthly  Hugo,  than  the  strings  of  vague,  ram- 
bling, colorless  and  inane  comparisons  which 
come  down   from  the  Twentieth   Plane. 

Here,  for  example,  is  one  of  the  finest  pass 
ages  in  all  the  earthly  Hugo.  Dr.  Watson,  with 
fatal  ill-judgment,  actually  quotes  it  in  full  in 
this  book,  within  a  few  pages  of  the  Twentieth 
Plane  Hugo's  unspeakable  balderdash,  as  an 
earthly  example  of  "astral"  style  (but  in  jus- 
tice to  the  doctor,  let  it  he  said  that  the  astral 
Walter  Pater  put  him  up  to  it).  Bear  in  mind 
that  this,  superb  as  it  is,  is  a  translation,  with 
but  half  the  sonority  and  rhythmic  beat  of  the 
original : 

There  are  men,  oceans  in  reality.  These 
waves;  this  ebb  and  flow;  this  terrible  go  and 
come ;  this  noise  of  every  gust ;  these  lights 
and  shadows;  these  vegetations  belonging  to 
the  gulf;  this  democracy  of  clouds  in  full  hur- 
ricane: these  eagles  in  the  foam;  these  won- 
derful gatherings  of  clouds  reflected  in  one 
knows  not  what  mysterious  crowd  by  millions 
of  luminous  specks,  heads  confused  with  the 
innumerable ;  those  grand  errant  lightnings 
which  seem  to  watch;  these  huge  sobs;  these 
monsters  glimpsed  at:  this  roaring  disturbing 
these  nights  of  darkness :  these  furies,  these 
frenzies,  these  tempests,  these  rocks,  these 
shipwrecks,  these  fleets  crushing  each  other, 
these  human  thunders  mixed  with  divine  thun- 
ders: this  blood  in  the  abyss;  then  these 
graces,  these  sweetnesses,  these  fetes,  these 
gay  white  veils;  these  fishing-boats,  these  songs 
in  the  uproar,  these  splendid  ports,  this  smoke 
of  the  earth,  these  towns  on  the  horizon,  this 
deep  blue  of  water  and  sky,  this  useful  sharp- 
ness; this  bitterness  which  renders  the  uni- 
verse wholesome,  this  rough  salt  without 
which  all  would  putrefy,  these  angers  and  as- 
suagings,  this  whole  in  one.  this  unexpected  in 
the  immutable,  this  vast  marvel  of  monotony 
inexhaustibly  varied,  this  level  after  that  earth- 
quake, these  hells  and  these  paradises  of  im- 
mensity eternally  agitated,  this  infinite,  this 
unfathomable, — all  this  can  exist  in  one  spirit : 
and  then  this  spirit  is  called  genius;  and  you 
have  Aeschylus,  you  have  Isaiah,  you  have  Ju- 
venal, you  have  Dante,  you  have  Michael  An- 
gelo.  you  have  Shakespeare :  and  looking  at 
these  minds  is  the  same  thing  as  to  look  at  the 

Has  the  sublimity,  the  illimitability,  of  genius 
ever  been  more  majestically  portrayed  ?  And 
now.   hear   how  this  man   talks — this  man   who 

could  describe  genius  when  he  was  on  earth  !"• 

cause    he    was    l'ciiius      hear   how    he   talks   after 

only  a  third  of  a  century  in  the  pink  twilight  of 
the  realms  above,  i  The  questions  arc  by  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Watsonian  group,  the  answers  are  by 

the   astral    Hugo)  : 

(What    is   the   highest    purpose    in    Liters 


To  reveal  to  view  truth  not  touched  to  life, 
but  latent   in  the  soul. 

(Is  not  all  Art  but  a  varied  manifestation  of 
the  divine  | 

Certainly.  The  artist  but  translates  it  into 
the   language   of  prose  or  poetry. 

(Who  is  the  greatest  French  dramatist?) 

Moliere  and  Corneille.  In  poetry,  Racine  is 
very  <_'reat.  \,,t  so  high  as  a  dramatist.  In 
prose.    Balzac   and    Dumas   are   great   men. 

(How  about   LeSage?) 

He  tried   with   dabs  to   write.     See? 

(Next  to  yourself,  who  is  the  greatest  French 

I  am  next  to  another.  Put  it  that  way.  I 
rank  all  the  French  school  as  greater  than  mv- 

(Who  is  the  greatest?) 

I  do  not  care  to  say.  Not  now.  Some  others 
are  here. 

Once  I  came  to  the  vision  screen  tcr  see  your 
group.  You  and  all  in  your  room  now  were 
as  faithful  as  Hebrews  in  their  temple,  but 
two  I  could  name  were  like  the  mist  of  a  jun- 

(Should  we  not  be  great  enough  to  overcome 
the  evil  influences  emanating  from  such  per 

You  were,  hence  I  came  to-night. 

Land  of  the  tricolor,  the  My,  and  French  va- 
lor, I  often  come  again  in  fright  of  Paris  and 
see  France  rise  from  the  phoenix-ashes  of  war 
to  the  strains  of  the  Marseillaise,  marching  out 
of  the  mist  of  tears  to  light. 

(Do  you  remember  the  French  Revolution?) 

Thomas  is  here.  He  has  written  in  his 
"French  Revolution"  the  sum  and  substance 
of  that  epic  time.  That  book  is  the  soul  of 
those  drama-moments  of  history,  and  will  sup- 
ply the  details.  I  will  say  this,  however,  that 
book  should  be  reviewed  as  a  historical  im- 
press of  action  rather  than  as  the  work  of  an 
earth  historian. 

It  may  be  objected,  and  with  some  force,  that 
Hugo  was  bothered  and  put  out  of  his  stride  by 
the  preposterous  questionings  of  what  sounds 
like  an  undergraduate  "culture"  society  in  a 
rural  theological  college.  But  this  is  not  true 
of  all  the  astralites  who  conversed  with  the  Wat- 
sonians.  George  Meredith,  for  example,  who 
used  in  his  earthly  day  to  be  a  fairly  careful 
writer,  took  up  his  stand  at  the  '•instrument" 
and   "transmitted"  the    following,    which      he 



April,  1919. 

clearly  claims  to  be  a  well-thought-out  lesson 
in  the  art  of  description : 

George  Meredith  is  here.  My  loving  earth 
souls,  I  deem  it  a  very  great  joy  to  make  you 
as  happy  as  I  am,  so  let  us  speak  of  things 
which,  when  thought  out,  will  be  of  value     .     . 

There  is  a  philosophy  on  the  earth  called 
Pragmatism.  I  will  define  for  you  Utilitarian- 
ism, Joyism,  Pragmatism. 

(1)  Pragmatism  is  the  performance  of  a 
work  of  love  done  into  tangible  form  because 
the  doer  believed  material  substance  was  the 
end  of  things  of  value. 

(2)  Utilitarianism  makes  that  which  will  be 

(3)  Joyism  realizes  that  Pragmatism,  Utili- 
tarianism, and  the  Ideal  are  in  combination, 
knows  that  the  only  true  joy  is  that  which 
one  soul  feels  when  looking  into  the  eyes  of 
another  soul. 

Nearly  all  earth  plane  writers  describe  prin- 
cipally the  things  a  character  does.  Now  great 
literature  speaks  of  the  things  a  character  is 
capable  of  doing.  All  of  the  five  senses  will  be 
used  by  the  characters;  that  is,  all  will  be  in- 
tensely human.  Realize  that  there  are  other 
senses  beyond  the  five.  Your  great  character 
will  always  use  these  in  a  given  crisis.  Great 
characters  do  not  in  great  crises  do  the  so- 
called  normal  thing. 

A  great  writer  writes  as  much  with  his  vis- 
ion as  with  his  education. 

I  will  use  an  example.  The  scene  is  a  gar- 
den. We  will  say  it  is  the  garden  of  Shelley's 
sensitive  plant.  Vision  it  now  in  simple  lan- 
guage. What  would  you  consider  the  most  im- 
portant thing  to  describe  in  prose  in  that  gar- 

(Oh,  I  suppose,  individual  flowers,  atmos- 
phere, lights  and  shadows,  breezes  and  birds, 
physical  effects,  abstract  qualities,  heart 
memories,  etc.) 

Here  are  my  notes: 

A  path  of  barrenness.  A  lonely  woman  walk- 
ing in  that  path.  She  feels  that  the  world  is 
cruel  and  without  beauty.  The  moon  rises 
full  and  clear.  The  woman,  walking  aimlessly 
into  the  garden,  passes  a  rustic  gate,  her 
thoughts  bowed  down  with  grief.  The  air 
still.  Silence  profound  as  death.  The  woman 
hears  a  strange  whispering.  This  wakens  her 
mind  to  a  little  alertness.  She  opens  her  eyes, 
and  sees  she  is  alone.  She  says  to  herself,  is 
this  talking  in  a  Garden  where  there  are  no 
people?  It  is  almost  a  breezeless  night.  She 
wonders.  Soon  the  silvery  orb  of  soft  mellow 
glory  shows  to  her  the  varied  and  almost  un- 
earthly bed  of  beautiful  flowers.  -She  realizes 
that  her  soul  is  so  still  that  she  hears  the  lan- 
guage of  the  flowers — the  love  and  sympathy  of 
each  to  the  others.  Then  the  perfume  bathes 
her  aching  temples.  She  feels  the  perfect 
flower-repose,  and  so  vision,  order,  truth  and 
beauty  are  angels  which  tell  God's  purpose 
to  her  soul. 

This  is  roughly  what  I  wrote  of  such  a  gar- 
den. Should  not  all  nature  become  accessory 
to  all  humans? 

It  may  be  all  right  to  write  about  gardens  in 
that  style  on  the  Twentieth  Plane,  but  I  can  im- 
agine what  his  publishers  and  his  friends  and 
his  critics  would  have  said  if  he  had  turned  out 
anything  like  that  while  on  the  same  earth  on 
which  he  wrote,  say,  the  "Diversion  Played  on 
a  Penny  Whistle"  in  'Richard  Feverel,"  or  the 
paragraphs  on  the  Triumph  of  the  Identical  in 
"Shagpat."  The  kindest  phrase  would  have 
been  "senile  decay." 

Shelley  is  one  of  the  worst  of  the  lot.  He 
was,  even  on  earth,  probably  the  last  poet  to 
whom  any  sane  persons  would  think  of  going  for 
a  definition  of  poetry  or  a  set  of  instructions 
on  how  to  make  it.  But  on  the  Twentieth  Plane 
they  are  terrifically  keen  on  definitions — or 
they  think  that  definitions  are  the  one  thing 
needed  to  save  this  bewildered  world  of  ours. 
They  handed  out  dozens  of  them  to  the  Watson- 
ian  circle,  which  literally  "ate  them  up." 
Shelley,  without  even  waiting  for  an  invitation, 
sailed  up  to  the  "instrument,"  announced  him- 
self (in  language  of  much  the  same  sort  as  P. 
T.  Barnum  would  have  used  to  announce  him  if 
the  poet  had  consented  to  do  a  lecture  tour  in 
the  States),  and  poured  forth  the  following: 

Greetings,  Dear  Friends. 

Bathed  in  the  effulgence  of  a  mutual  love,  in 
the  pale  pink  lovelight,  I  kiss  the  soul  of  all. 
Of  course  you  know  'tis  I,  Percy  Bysshe  Shel- 
ley, and  so  will  proceed  to  the  elucidation  of 
the  essentials  of  the  poet's  art. 

Poetry  is  the  expression,  through  emotion,  im- 
agination, rhythm,  and  light — the  light  of 
words — of  big  thoughts,  great  ideas,  cosmic  in- 
spiration, the  soul  on  fire  with  intensity.  And 
it  is  opportune  to  say  that  in  the  stirring  times 
of  the  fifth  plane,  poetry  is  the  herald  of  re- 
volt, for,  mark  you,  I  said  when  on  your  sphere 
of  action,  "Poets  blow  the  bugles  to  battle,  they 
are  the  unacknowledged  legislators  of  the 

The  philosophy  of  poetry  is  this :  The  poet,  as 
Macaulay  said,  is  like  an  artist ;  He  paints  with 
words  what  the  artist  paints  with  colours.  The 
first  thing  to  realize  in  writing  great  poetry,  is 
the  mood ;  second,  spontaneity.  Mood  while  not 
artificial,  can  always  be  governed  by  external 
objects.  A  red  rose,  a  pink  light,  an  overture 
on  the  harpsichord  or  the  violin,  will  make  a 
divine  mood. 

The  reception  chamber  in  which  imagination 
dwells  is  close  to  intellect  and  soul,  and  these 
three  triune  faculties  can,  if  regulated,  catch 
the  inspiration  of  spontaneity,  even  though  the 
flash  of  color,  thought,  form  and  purpose,  comes 



''  I  \   |/./  |  \     l:nnl<MAN 

with  the  speed  of  lightning.  My  Indian  Seren 
ade,  read  to-night,  was  the  efforl  of  one  great 
deep  breath  of  spontaneous  thought.  It  clothed 
itself  in  garments  beautiful  without  effort,  It 
was  a  golden  glory  piece  caughl  in  the  baakel  of 
my  mind.  It  was  a  child  of  the  spontaneous,  an 
offspring  of  the  eternal.  It  lives,  palpitates 
with  joy,  and  is  a  thing  of  sublimity. 

There  is  something  about  that  phrase,  "golden 
glory-piece  caught  in  the  basket  of  my  mind' 
that  is  the  very  essence  of  astral  literary  style 
— and  the  very  negation  of  all  that  ever  passed 
for  style,  clarity  or  intelligence  here  upon  earth. 
If  this  is  the  utterance  of  a  great  writer,  then 
Mary  Baker  Eddy  is  the  greatest  among  us,  and 
Shakespeare  the  least. 

Wordsworth  contributed  to  Dr.  Watson's 
compilation  a  carefully-executed  description  of 
an  astral  oil-portrait.  If  anybody  had  told 
Wordsworth  that  he  was  going  to  write  like 
this  after  he  died,  he  would  have  prayed  for 
extinction.  I  am  in  some  doubt  as  to  who  is 
supposed  to  have  executed  the  portrait  in  ques- 
tion, and  after  reading  the  description  several 
times,  I  am  utterly  unable  to  form  any  mental 
vision  of  the  picture.  Perhaps  the  readers  of 
the  Canadian  Bookman  may  have  better  luck: 

Nestling  as  quiet  as  she  is  in  the  group  of 
earth  astral  bodies  painted  here  byr  Titian  and 
Rembrandt,  on  an  easel  of  red  gold  ore  con- 
struction, is  to  be  seen  the  glory-painting  of 
Rembrandt's  art,  as  he  dreamed  of  a  girl, 
sweet,  gentle,  and  the  soul  of  things  pensive. 

The  canvas  is  pure  white,  and  the  back- 
ground reveals  a  sky  as  if  each  cloud  were 
the  tear-drop  of  an  angel.  In  the  foreground, 
one  sees  half-revealed  flowers,  a  fountain  of 
astral  crystal  waters,  and  a  lone  palm  tree. 

The  girl  herself  is  seated  on  a  bench  near 
the  sea.  Her  arm  is  on  the  back  of  the  place 
she  reclines  on.  It  is  long  and  sculptured  to  a 
state  of  perfection  which  would  have  been  an 
inspiration  to  Angelo.  The  slightly  stooping 
shoulders  are  delicately  rounded  in  art  curves 
like  the  curves  of  a  swallow  in  flight.  The 
hair  is  brown,  as  if  Nature  had  taken  the 
brown  of  apples,  russet  in  their  dress,  and 
adorned  the  head  of  a  maiden.  The  cheeks 
have  a  delicate  pink,  as  if  a  blush  had  been 
caught  when  the  maiden  dreamed  things  of 
her  heart, — secrets  of  him  she  loves.  In  the 
eyes  slightly  shaded  one  can  see  the  outlook- 
ing  soul  all  lit  with  education,  strength  of 
character,  and  the  delicate  touch  of  the  artist 
of  life,  whose  discrimination  in  taste  is  almost 

The  atmosphere  around  all  is  one  of  pensive, 
deep-dreaming  love,  and,  in  a  sentence,  one 
sees  in  this  astral  painting,  the  fresh,  innocent 
maid,  worthy  to  have  walked  in  Eden,  when 
mortals  were  so  close  to  the  divine. 

Km   beyond  .1  doubt  the  saddesl  case  of  lit 
erary  deterioration  is  thai  of  Shakeapean      Ee 

has  I n  up  there  longer  than  the  rest,  and  is 

"wry  much  higher,"  and  presumably  more 
rarefied.  His  extraordinary  power  of  vivid 
figuration  lias  complete!]  disappeared;  he  is  re> 
duced  to  the  most  ranklj  commonplace  and 
shopworn  comparisons,  such  as  arc  chopped  out 
of  the  writings  of  any  cub  reporter  by  any  in- 
telligenl  city  editor.  Be  is  hut  what's  the  use'/ 
Listen  to  him : 

Now,  the  hour-glass  spills  much  sand,  so  I 
will  in  subdued  light,  speak  as  the  immortal 
urges  me. 

As  courses  time  through  all  the  valleys  of 
the  life  of  man,  as  the  chariot  dashed  around 
the  amphitheatre  of  old  Rome,  as  the  almost 
perfect  youths  of  Greece  entered  into  the 
games,  let  us  with  courage  and  noble  emotion 
enter  the  amphitheatre  of  great  thought. 

Genius  is  that  power  which  enables  a  man 
to  do  absolutely  without  effort  what  other  men 
can  not  do  with  the  most  intense  labor  and 
struggle.  Genius  is  always  spontaneous,  as 
rapid  as  light,  as  free  as  a  bird  in  the  trans- 
ports of  a  bird's  pure  life.  .  .  .  Genius  can 
not  be  explained.  It  can  be  illustrated ;  it  can- 
not be  demonstrated,  because  only  the  God 
of  the  Universe  knows  what  genius  is. 
and    genius    never    tells 

Nearly  all  geniuses  entered  your  world  amid 
the  surroundings  of  the  crude  and  the  humble. 

.  .  .  The  crude  and  the  humble  things  of 
your  environment  are  most  in  harmony  with 
the  great  laws  that  sweep  as  do  the  fingers  of 
the  harpist  the  chords  of  a  golden  harp.     .     . 

Is  this,  think  you,  the  kind  of  conversation 
which  made  Beaumont  write  that  unparalleled 
testimonial : 

What  things  have  we  seen 
Done  at  the  Mermaid !  heard  words  that  have 

So  nimble  and  so  full  of  subtle  flame, 
As  if  that  every  one  from  whence  they  came 
Had  meant  to  put  his  whole  wit  in  a  jest, 
And  had  resolved  to  live  a  fool  the  rest 
Of  his  dull  life. 

Or  is  it  not  rather  the  kind  of  utterance  de- 
scribed by  Shakespeare  himself: 

It  is  a  tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 
Signifying  nothing. 

To  anybody  who  is  tempted  to  think  that 
these  communications  proceed  from  a  Words- 
worth, a  Shelley,  a  Hugo  or  a  Shakespeare  who 
still  retains  the  powers  of  intellect  which  made 
him  a  master  of  literary  style  when  upon  this 
earth.  I  can  only  recommend  the  perusal,  side- 
by-side  with  these  ineffable  ineptitudes  of 
meandering  minds,  of  some  typically  brilliant 
piece  of  earth-writing  by  the  same  personage. 



Apnl.  1519, 

Free  Verse 

(Dedicated  to  J.  M.  Gibbon) 


The  Editor  of  the  Canadian  Bookman. 

Sir: — I  have  no  meanly  entertained  desire 
to  discredit  Mr.  J.  M.  Gibbon's  finely  con- 
ceived and  admirably  executed  article  in  the 
first  number  of  the  Canadian  Bookman,  but 
really  I  feel  that  certain  results  of  its  influ- 
ence* should  be  brought  to  the  attention  of 
those  who  were  responsible  for  its  publica- 
tion. I  was  so  interested  in  the  considera- 
tion shown  those  who  are  the  devotees  or 
near-devotees  of  the  stripped  Muse  (not  even 
crinolines!  but  then,  of  course,  how  lovely 
is  the  nude!)  that  after  reading  the  article 
I  at  once  sat  down  to  see  what  could  be  done 
about  it.  The  enclosed  free  verses  are  the 
result.  May  I  add,  the  direct  result?  The 
article  was"  read ;  the  verses  were  written. 
This  statement  of  fact  makes  it  obvious  that 
there  is  no  familiarity  or  warmth  of  family 
attachment  or  anything  of  that  sort  involved 
in  the  dedication  of  the  verses  to  Mr.  Gib- 
bon. He  is  their  godfather  and  responsible 
for  their  begetting,  that  is  all.  And  you,  Sir, 
with  your  Editorial  Committee  share  that 
responsibility.  I  anticipate  for  your  edi- 
torial sanctum  a  great  influx  of  free  verse 
from  all   parts  of  the   country.     Yours,   etc., 

Arthur  L.  Phelps. 


TIS  not  to  be  wondered  at,  is  it, 
That  the  politicians, 
Who  know  something. 
Should  forego  their  knowledge 
When  they  talk  to  the  people, 
When  the  people  are  ignorant 
And  like  it. 


WHEN  "A.D.", 
Albert  Durrant  Watson,  M.D., 
— M.D.  is  after  the  name, 
A.D.  before  it, — 
Got  his  ear  in  the  Infinite, 
Did    we    laugh,    did    we    cry, 
When  we  read  the  denouement  ? 

We  smirked   and  reviewed   it. 
Then,  "To  Hell  with  the  Infinite!" 
And  slap  home  to  supper, 
— Maybe  poker  and  supper! 

But  Watson  believes  it. 

He  was  there  with  the  steno. 


I    HAVE  eaten  a  piece  of  hard  cheese 
in  the  moonlight 
And  thought  more  of  life  and  love  and  the  here- 
Than  when  I  sat  with  purple  cushions 
In  Morris  chairs. 

Or  tapped  a  cigarette  on  the  mantel 
In  the  warmth  of  a  fire. 


SHE  had  worked  in  munitions; 
And  developed. 

"Children?"  she  said. 

' '  Why  sure ! 

But  you'll  have  to  raise  them!" 

When  I  argued: 

"Well,   I'll  give  a  year  to  them 

Intensely ; 

Three  children,  three  years,  say ; 

Intense  years. 

Then  you  do  the  rest; 

With  the  help  of  the  State 

'Twill   be  easy ; 

Your   turn   again. 

We   women 

Will  watch  you." 


Being  a  Review  of  Certain   Books. 

ADJECTIVES!"  yearned  the  manager. 
"Adjectives!"    shrieked    the    hireling 
"Adjectives,    adjectives,    adjectives!"    groaned 
the   printer. 

For  the  House  had  decided  to  print  it. 
The  cover,  the  shape  had  been  chosen. 
The  colour,  the  width  of  the  margins. 
It  remained  but  to  startle*  the  presses. 
The  cheque  had  been  duly  submitted. 
And  duly  accepted. 

But  adjectives,  adjectives,  adjectives! 
'Twas  adjectives  that  they  wanted. 
Else  how  could  they  camouflage 
Nothing?    How   decive   for  awhile 
The  Public? 

•Should    be    "start    up." 

April.  1919 

C  i  \  i/>/.ia    BOOR  1/  i a 


The  Real  Reason  for  Un-Book 
ishness  in  Canada 


I  HAVE  been  much  interested  in  reading  the 
first  number  of  the  Canadian  Bookman, 
to  which  I  wish  all  success,  and  with  the 
aims  of  which  mere  woman  will  sympa- 
thise. Particularly  was  1  interested  in  the  sym- 
posium on  "The  Need  of  more  Bookishness  in 
Canada."  and  in  the  varied  and  excellent  rea- 
sons put  forward  for  the  too  little  "bookish- 
ness" which  we  all  deplore.  I  read  Sir  Wil- 
liam Peterson's  words:  "What  is  the  use  of 
teaching  children  the  mechanical  art  of  read- 
ing if  we  fail  to  instil  in  their  minds  a  genuine 
appetite  for  good  books?"  and  Bishop  Bid- 
well's  statement  that  the  English  boy  who  at- 
tended his  classes  came  from  a  home  where 
there  had  been  some  atmosphere  of  culture,  or 
where,  at  any  rate,  books  and  book-talk  were 
common,  whereas  the  Canadian  boy  generally 
was  practical,  knew  about  guns,  engines,  sail- 
ing-boats, canoes  and  so  forth,  but  had  clearly 
not  lived  among  books,  and  could  not  pick  up 
an  allusion  even  to  the  best-known  figures  of 
Scott  or  Dickens.  I  read  right  through  the 
articles  till  I  came  to  Principal  Hutton's,  with 
his  paragraph  upon  wifely  jealousy  and  the 
spouse's  alleged  impatience  with  a  scholar's 
library.  (Till  one  read  it,  one  had  thought  al- 
ways of  "Margot  Tennant"  as  one  whose  brain 
might  even  have  the  brilliancy  which  many 
deny  to  the  lawyerly,  scholarly  mind  of  her 
good  mid-Victorian  husband.)  But  nowhere 
does  it  seem  to  me  has  anyone  touched  on  what 
I  consider  to  be  the  real  reason  of  the  lack  of 
bookishness  in  Canada. 

In  John  Murray  Gibbon's  "Drums  Afar" 
there  is  this  sentence:  "If  we  had  educated  our 
women  to  be  better  companions  for  their  child- 
ren, the  children  would  have  grown  up  likely 
to  be  better  citizens.  The  reason  why  progress 
is  so  slow  is  that  only  one  half  of  the  human 
race  has  taken  part  in  the  work."  It  is  a  com- 
mon axiom:  "Get  the  mother,  and  you  get  the 
new  generation."  And  my  contention  is  that 
if  the  English  boy  is  more  bookish  than  his 
Canadian  brother,  it  is  because  his  mother  has 
been  a  reading  woman.  Professor  Ernest  Scott 
makes  a  plea  for  "more  of  the  habit  of  read- 

ing." and  La  it  not  the  mother  who  seeks  to 

form  the  habits  of  her  child  when  it  is  young  1 
So  it  seems  to  me  thai  the  question  which  has 
to  be  tackled  is:  "Why  do  the  Women  of  Can- 
ada  not  read  more?" 

Sir  Robert  Falconer  writes  that  his  experi- 
ence leads  him  to  believe  that  there  arc  more 
women  than  men  in  Canada  who  are  good 
readers.  He  gives  as  a  reason  that  "possibly 
they  have  more  time,  though  that  is  doubtful, 
when  household  duties  are  so  manifold  and  con- 
stant; I  rather  think  the  women  make  more 
time."  Woman  is  naturally  a  book-lover.  She 
has  not  the  distractions  that  men  have  of  club 
and  business  life;  and  when  she  has  some  well- 
earned  leisure  what  more  restful  than  to  take 
up  the  good  book  so  close  to  her  hand  and  find 
companionship  and  stimulation  and  distraction 
from  her  drudgery.  But  in  this  stirring  new 
country,  where  home-helpers  are  so  hard  to  find, 
just  at  the  time  when  she  should  have  most  leis- 
ure to  mould  the  minds  of  her  young  children, 
just  at  the  very  time  when  she  should  for  their 
sakes  be  keeping  her  own  brain  fresh  and  un- 
tired,  the  mother  is  hardest  worked  of  them  all. 
She  is  so  occupied  in  caring  for  the  bodies  of  her 
family,  in  giving  them  food  to  eat  and  clothes 
to  wear,  that  she  has  not  much  time  to  care  for 
their  impressionable  young  minds. 

There  is  a  time-honored  custom  which  I 
should  like  to  see  more  widely  adopted  by  every 
mother;  the  last  hour  of  their  short  day  is 
"children's  hour,"  and  the  mother  hurries  home 
from  whatsoever  engagement  she  has  had  so 
as  not  to  disappoint  the  little  ones,  who  all  day 
long  in  Nurseryland  have  looked  forward  to  the 
hour  when  gathered  round  their  mother's  knee 
they  will  fight  the  Gorgons  with  Perseus,  or 
open  the  box  of  troubles  with  Pandora,  or  fly 
over  many  lands  and  see  many  strange  things 
on  the  wings  of  Pegasus.  They  siug  the  beloved 
Nursery  Rhymes,  and  at  Christmas  time  their 
voices  are  lifted  in  the  quaint  old  English 
carols ;  and  all  the  time  there  is  being  awakened 
in  them  a  love  of  beauty,  of  poetry  or  rhythm. 
of  music,  and  of  romance  which  will  be  their 
heritage  to  the  end  of  their  days.     Every  child 



April.  1910. 

is  born  into  the  world  with  that  most  blessed  gift 
of  imagination,  and  woe  be  to  the  parent  who, 
instead  of  cherishing  and  fostering  it,  suffers 
it  to  be  stifled  in  the  prose  of  life. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  men  of  Canada  have 
to  see  to  it:  first,  that  their  women  have  more 
time;  and  second,  that  they  are  supplied  with 
more  literature.  It  is  quite  possible  that  the 
jealousy  which  Principal  Hutton  noticed  comes 
from  the  fact  that  s.o  often  where  woman  is 
most  cumbered  and  busy  with  "the  little  things 
that  someone  after  all  must  do,"  indulgent 
man,  smoking  in  his  sanctum,  must  not  be  dis- 
turbed, while  he  refreshes  his  brain  from  the 
books  and  magazines  she  so  longs  to  read  her- 

But  granted  that  the  New  "World  woman  has 
not  the  time  of  her  more  leisured  Old  World 
sister  for  the  very  big  book,  she  might  keep 
au  courant  with  the  progress  of  the  world's 
thought,  had  she  even  the  opportunity  of  read- 
ing the  magazines  of  the  month. 

It  is  the  boast  of  one  of  the  first  universities 
of  Canada  (and  may  be  of  each  for  aught  T 
know!)  that  the  staff  have  a  reading-room 
which  is  supplied  with  all  the  best  American  and 
English  magazines.  At  a  given  date,  true,  the 
professors  are  permitted  to  carry  an  old  num- 
ber home,  and  by  the  time  the  world  may  have 
nearly  turned  upside  down  in  this  very  breath- 
less age  in  which  we  live,  the  professor's  wife 
may  have  a  chance  to  skim  its  pages.     Similarly 

in  the  University  Clubs  and  other  clubs  of  which 
I  am  cognisant;  where,  in  the  women's  quar- 
ters, is  it  possible  to  sit  and  enjoy  any  of  the 
literature  that  is  piled  in  stacks  in  the  members' 
reading-room?  Unfortunately,  too,  man  having 
read  and  enjoyed  his  magazine  thinks  that  now 
it  would  be  waste  and  folly  to  buy  it,  and  so  not 
only  are  his  women  debarred  from  reading  it  at 
the  club,  but  they  are  also  debarred  from  seeing 
it  in  their  own  home.  As  a  remedy  for  this  I 
would  suggest  that  a  reading-room  should  be 
made  in  the  universities  for  the  wives  of  the 
staff,  and  in  clubs  for  the  wives  of  the  mem- 
bers, where  after  a  given  date  they  would  be 
able  to  see  the  monthly  magazines  before  they 
are  carried  to  the  respective  homes.  If  both 
parents  had  a  mutual  interest  in  the  problems 
with  which  our  age  is  teeming,  and  of  which 
women  may  be  oblivious  for  lack  of  the  oppor- 
tunity of  hearing  of  them,  if  both  parents  had 
the  true  love  of  good  literature  which  unfortu- 
nately will  die  for  lack  of  nutrition,  the  conver- 
sation at  home  might  be  one  of  the  most  stimu- 
lating and  educational  assets  of  youth. 

It  will  be  a  pity  if  the  Canadian  Bookman 
shares  the  fate  of  many  other  magazines  and  is 
read  only  by  the  men  of  this  country.  I  con- 
tend that  it  should  be  read  by  every  woman 
in  Canada,  if  the  rising  generation  is  to  profit 
by  that  literary  home-atmosphere  which  will  be 
the  first  step  towards  creating  true  "  bookish  - 
ness'  in  this  land. 

Wasted  Nights 


ALL  those  silent,  mysteried  midnights 
That  passed  us  by ; 
Those  slender,  silver,  scarcely  world-born  hours 

That  we  let  die! 
No  wonder  the  moon,  that  pale  soul  of  sadness, 
Smiled  from  her  sky. 

I  have  almost  wept  to  see  them 

All  dying  so, 
Draped"  in  their  shrouds  of  stars,  like  virgin   maidens. 

Pale,  pale  as  snow; 
Wept  tears  for  them  slipping  away,  unknowing, 

From  us  who  know. 

I  have  cried  for  all  their  beauty 

That  scarcely  seemed 
Nature's  beauty,  so  fine  it  was,  so  finished 

It  subtly  gleamed. 
Yet — those  nights  might  have  been  far  less  dear 

Than  those  I  dreamed. 

April.  1919. 

CAh  \D1  I  \    BOOK  1/  I  \ 


What  Is  Poetry?- A  Synthesis  of 
Modern  Criticism 


THE  most  critical  answer  to  the  question, 
"What  is  poetry""  lias  been  made  by 
Benedetto  (Voce,  in  his  "Aesthetic."  It 
acts  therefore  as  the  hest  cement  for  a  discussion 
in  which  the  mass  of  material  is  mi  great,  that 
only  the  most  precise  language  (especially  in 
limited  space  )  can  present  Confusion;  and  with 
out  more  ado  I  give  a  resume  of  it: 

Human  knowledge  has  two  forms:  it  is  either 
intuitive  knowledge  or  logical  knowledge ;  know- 
ledge obtained  through  the  intellect;  knowledge 
of  the  individual  or  knowledge  of  the  univer- 
sal ;  of  individual  things  or  of  the  relations  be- 
tween them :  it  is,  in  fact,  productive  either  of 
images  or  concepts  .  .  .  those  concepts 
which  are  found  mingled  and  fused  with  the  in- 
tuitions are  no  longer  concepts,  insofar  as  they 
really  are  mingled  and  fused,  for  they  have 
lost  all  independence  and  autonomy.  They  have 
been  concepts,  but  they  have  now  become  sim- 
ple elements  of  intuition.  .  .  .  Every  true 
intuition  or  representation  is,  also,  expression. 
That  which  does  not  objectify  itself  is  not  in- 
tuition or  representation,  but  sensation  and 
naturality.  .  .  Intuitive  activity  possesses 
intuitions  to  the  extent  that  it  expresses  them. 
.  .  .  How  can  we  possess  a  true  intuition  of 
a  geometrical  figure,  unless  we  possess  so  ac- 
curate an  image  of  it  as  to  be  able  to  trace  it 
immediately  upon  paper?  .  .  .  The  princi- 
pal reason  which  makes  our  theme  appear  para- 
doxical as  we  maintain  it,  is  the  illusion  or  pre- 
judice that  we  possess  a  more  complete  intuition 
than  we  really  do.  .  .  People  believe  that 
anyone  could  have  imagined  a  Madonna  of 
Raphael,  but  that  Raphael  was  Raphael, 
owing  to  his  technical  ability  in  putting  the 
Madonna      on      canvass,     nothing     could     be 

more      false The      painter      is      a 

painter,  because  he  sees  what  others  only  feel 
or  catch  a  glimpse  of.  but  do  not  see.  .  .  They 
are  brought  back  to  reality,  when  they  are 
obliged  to  cross  the  Bridge  of  Asses  of  expres- 
sion. .  .  To  have  an  intuition  is  to  express. 
Tt  is  nothing  else  (nothing  more,  but  nothing 
less)  than  to  express.  The  intuition  and  ex- 
pression together  of  a  poet  are  verbal.  Some 
say:  "Let  us  admit  that  art  is  intuition,  but 
intuition  is  not  always  art:  artistic  intuition  is 
of  a  distinct  species  differing  from  intuition  in 
general  by  something  more."  But  no  one  has 
ever  been  able  to  indicate  of  what  this  some- 
thing more  consists.     As  science  adds  and  sub- 

stitutes other  concepts  larger  and  more  compre- 
hensive for  those  that  arc  poor  and  limited,  yel 
its  method  does  not  differ  from  that  by  which 
is  formed  the  smallest  universal  in  the  brain  of 
the  humblest  of  men,  so  what  is  generally  call- 
ed art,  by  antonomasia  (analogy),  collects  in- 
tuitions tliat  arc  wider  and  more  complex  than 
those  which  we  generally  experience,  but  these 
intuitions  are  always  of  sensations  and  impres- 
sions .  .  .  the  whole  difference,  then,  is 
quantitative,  and  as  such,  indifferent  to  philo- 
sophy. .  .  The  cult  and  superstition  of  the 
genius  has  arisen  from  this  quantitative  differ 
ence  having  been  taken  as  a  difference  of  qual- 
ity. .  .  Those  who  claim  unconsciousness  as 
the  chief  quality  of  an  artistic  genius,  hurl  him 
from  an  eminence  far  above  humanity  to  a  po- 
sition far  below  it.  Intuitive  or  artistic  genius, 
like  every  form  of  human  activity. 'is  always 
conscious;  otherwise  it  would  be  blind  mechan- 
ism. .  .  Does  the  aesthetic  fact  consist  of 
content  alone,  or  of  form  alone,  or  of  both  to- 
gether? .  .  In  the  aesthetic  fact,  the  aesthe- 
tic activity  is  not  added  to  the  fact  of  the  im- 
pressions, but  these  latter  are  formed  and  elab- 
orated by  it.  The  impressions  reappear  as 
it  were  in  expression,  like  water  put  into 
a  filter,  which  reappears  the  same  and  yet 
different  on  the  other  side.  The  aesthetic  fact, 
therefore,  is  form,  and  nothing  but  form  .  . 
.  .  (therefore)  there  is  no  passage  between 
the  quality  the  quality  of  the  content  and  that 
of  the  form.  .  It  has  sometimes  been  thought 
that  the  content,  in  order  to  be  aesthetic,  that 
is  to  say,  transformable  into  form,  should  pos- 
sess some  determinate  or  determinable  quality. 
But  were  that  so,  then  form  and  content,  expres- 
sion and  impression,  would  be  the  same  thing. 

•Bibliography    for    this    article    is    as    follows:  — 

Benedletto  Croc'e — "Aesthetic,"   MacMillan. 

Benedetto  Croce — "Philosophy    of     The     Practical," 

Sir    Henry    Xewbolt— "  A    New    Study     of     English 
Poetry,"   Constable. 

Arthur   Symons — "The   Romantic    Movement   in   Eng- 
lish  Poetry, ' '  Constable. 

Arthur  Ransome — "Portraits  and  Speculations,"  Mac- 

Irving     Babbitt — "The     New      Laocoon."      Houghton 

Basil  Worsf old— " The  Principles  of  Criticism,"  Long- 

Lafeadio     Hearn — "Interpretations     of     Literature." 
Dodd,  Mead. 

Lafeadio  Hearn — "Life  and  Literature/"  Dodd,  Mead 

Lafeadio    Hearn — "Appreciations   of   Poetry."    Dodd, 

Professor    Saintsbury — "A    History    of    Eaglish.   Pro- 
sody,"  MarMillan. 



April,  1919. 

It  is  true  that  the  content  is  that  which  is  con- 
vertible into  form,  but  it  has  no  determinable 
qualities  until  this  transformation  takes  place. 
.  .  .  Expression  has  its  point  of  departure 
in  the  impressions  ....  (but)  it  will  be 
(argued)  that  expression  is  sometimes  based  on 
other  expressions  .  .  .  not  in  the  least  . 
.  .  he  who  conceives  a  tragedy  puts  into  a 
crucible  a  great  quantity,  so  to  say,  of  impres- 
sions: the  expressions  themselves,  conceived  on 
other  occasions,  are  fused  together  with  the 
new  in  a  single  mass  .  .  the  old  expressions 
must  descend  again  to  the  level  of  impressions, 
in  order  to  be  synthetized  into  a  new  single  ex- 
pression. .  .  When  we  take  "content"  as 
equal  to  "concept"  it  is  most  true,  not  only  that 
art  does  not  consist  of  content,  but  also  that  it 
has    no    content.     .     .     In    the    same    way    the 


distinction  between  poetry  and  prose  cannot  be 
justified  save  in  that  of  art  and  science.  .  . 
The  relation  between  intuitive  knowledge  or  ex- 
pression, and  intellectual  knowledge  or  con- 
cept, between  art  and  science,  poetry  and  prose, 
cannot  be  otherwise  defined  than  by  saying 
that  it  is  one  of  double  degree.  The  first  degree 
is  the  expression,  the  second  the  concept :  the 
first  can  exist  without  the  second,  but  the 
second  cannot  exist  without  the  first.  There 
exists  poetry  without  prose,  hut  not  prose  with- 
out poetry  (e.g.  the  arrangement  of  a  book  on 
science).  Expression,  indeed,  is  the  first  affirm- 
ation of  human  activity.  Poetry  is  "the  ma- 
ternal language  (italics  mine)  ot  the  human 
race." It    is    customary    to    dis 


tinguish  the  internal  from  the  external 
work  of  art ;  the  terminology  is  infeli- 
citous, for  the  work  of  art  (the  aesthetic  work) 
is  always  internal;  and  that  which  is  called  ex- 
ternal is  no  longer  a  work  of  art.  .  .  Others 
distinguish  between  aesthetic  and  artistic  fact, 
meaning  by  the  second  the  external  or  practical 
stage,  which  may  and  generally  does  follow 
the  first.  But  in  this  case,  it  is  simply  a  case 
of  linquistic  usage,  doubtless  permissible,  al- 
though perhaps  not  opportune.  .  .  For  the 
same  reasons  the  search  for  the  end  of  art  is 
ridiculous,  when  it  is  understood  of  art  as  art. 
.  .  .  to  fix  an  end  is  to  choose  ...  to 
choose  is  to  will :  to  will  this  and  not  to  will 
that :  and  this  and  that  must  be  before  us,  they 
must  be  expressed.  Practice  follows,  it  does  not 
precede  theory;  expression  is  free  inspiration. 
The  true  artist,  in  fact  finds  himself  biar  with 
his  theme,  he  knows  not  how;  he  feels  the  mo- 
ment of  birth  drawing  near,  but  he  cannot  will 
it  or  not  will  it.  .  .  If  born  Anacreon.  he 
were  to  wish  to  sing  of  Atreus  and  of  Alcides, 
his  lyre  would  warn  him  of  his  mistake,  echoing 
only  of  Venus  and  of  Love,  notwithstanding 
his  efforts  to  the  contrary.  .  .  The  impossi- 
bility of  choice  of  content  completes  the  theorem 
of  the  independence  of  art,  and  is  also  the  only- 
legitimate  meaning  of  the  expression:  art  for 
art's  sake.  .  .  .  The  saying:  the  style  is  the 
man  is  either  altogether  void,  as  when  it  is  un- 
derstood that  the  man  is  the  style,  in  so  far  as 
lie  is  style,  that  is  to  say,  the  man,  but  only  so 
far  as  he  is  an  expression  of  activity ;  or  it  is 
erroneous,  when  the  attempt  is  made  to  deduce 
from  what  a  man  has  seen  and  expressed,  that 
which  he  has  done  and  willed,  inferring  thereby 
that  there  is  a  necessary  (italics  mine)  link  be- 
tween knowing  and  willing.  .  .  .  Sincerity 
imposed  upon  the  artist  as  a  duty  .... 
arises  from  an  equivocation  .  .  (the  artist) 
deceives  no  one,  since  he  gives  form  to  what  is 
already  in  his  mind  .  .  .  (if)  by  sincerity 
is  meant  fullness  and  truth  of  expression,  . 
.  .  .  it  is  clear  that  this  second  sense  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  ethical  concept.  .  .  . 
Art  is  thus  independent  of  science,  as  it  is  of 
the  useful  and  the  moral.  .  .  Let  it  not  be 
feared  that  thus  may  be  justified  art  that  is 
frivolous  or  cold,  since  that  which  is  truly  frivo- 
lous or  cold  is  so  because  it  has  not  been  raised 
to  expression.     .  We  do  not  ask  of  an  artist 

instruction  as  to  real  facts  and  thoughts,  nor 
that  he  shoiild  astonish  us  with  the  richness  of 
his  imagination,  but  that  he  should  have  a  per- 
sonality, in  contact  with  which  the  soul  of  the 
hearer  or  spectator  may  be  heated.  A  person- 
ality of  any  sort  is  asked  for  in  this  case;  its 
moral  significance  is  excluded  .  .  .  but  it 
must    be    a    soul     .     .  art    criticism    would 

seem  to  consist  altogether  in  determining  if 
there  be  a  personality  in  the  work  of  art,  and  of 
what    sort.     .  (Croee   here   goes   on   to   say 

that  the  personality  here  meant  is  not  empirical 
and  volitional,  but  spontaneous  and  ideal.) 
.  .  .  Thus  it  is  without  doubt  that  if  pure 
intuition    (and    pure   expression,   which    is    the 

April.  L919. 

CANADIAN    i:noh\i\\ 


same  thniLr'   are  indispensable  in  the  work  of 
art.  the  personality  of  the  artist  is  equally  in- 
dispensable.   If  .    tin-  classic  moment  of 
perfect    representation   or  expression    I"-    aecea 
sary  for  the  work  of  art.   the  romantic  moment 

of  feeling  is  not    less   necessary.    .    .     If  the 
first  or  representative  momenl  be  epic,  ami  the 
second,  which  is      ...     passionate  and  per- 
sonal,  be   formed   lyric  then    art    must 
be  at  oner  epic  and   lyric  hut   if  the 
essence  of  art   be  merely  theoretic    and   it  is 
intuibitity—c&Ti  it.  on  the  other  hand,  be  prac- 
tical, that  is  to  say  personality  and  passionalityt 
(or  vice  versa).                    Here  we  find,  on  the 
one  hand  things  intuible  lying  dead  and  soul- 
less; on  the  other,  the  artist's  feeling  and  per- 
sonality.    The  artist   is   then   supposed   to  put 
himself  into  things,  by  an  act  of  magic,  to  make 
them  live  and   palpitate,  love  and   adore.     But 
if  we  start   with   the  distinction,  we  can   never 
again  reaeh   unity,  the  distinction  requires  an 
intellectual  act.  and  what  the  intellect  has  divid- 
ed, intellect  or  reason  alone,  not  art  or  imagina- 
tion, can  reunite  and  synthetize.     .     .    We  must 
recognize,  either  that  the  duality   must  be  de- 
stroyed and   proved   illusory,   or  that   we  must 
proceed  to  a  more  ample  conception  of  art,  in 
which    that    of    pure    intuibility    would    remain 
merely  secondary  or  particular.    And  to  destroy 
and  prove  it   illusory  must  consist   in  showing 
that  here  too  form  is  content,  and  that  pure  in- 
tuition is  itself  lyricism.    Now,  the  truth  is  pre- 
cisely this:   pure    intuition   is   essentially   lyric- 

Pure  intuition,  then,  since  it  does  not  pro- 
duce concepts,  must  represent  the  will  in  its 
manifestations,  that  is  to  say.  it  can  represent 
nothing  but  states  of  the  soul.  And  states  of  the 
soul  are  passionality,  feeling,  personality,  which 
are  found  in  every  art  and  determine  its  lyrical 
character.  Where  this  is  absent,  art  is  absent, 
precisely  because  pure  intuition  is  absent. 
.  .  Thus  the  origin  of  language,  'hat  is,  its 
true  nature,  has  several  times  been  placed  in 
interjection.  .  .  If  this  deduction  of  lyric- 
ism from  the  intimate  essence  of  pure  intuition 
do  not  appear  very  easily  acceptable,  the  reason 
is  to  be  sought  in  two  very  deep-rooted  pre- 
judices .  .  .  The  first  concerns  the  nature 
of  the  imagination,  and  its  likenesses  to  and 
differences  from  fancy.  .  .  .  Not  only  does 
a  new  and  bizarre  combination  of  images,  which 
is  vulgarly  called  invention,  not  constitute  the 
artist,  but  ne  fait  rien  a  1 'affaire,  as  Alceste 
remarked  with  reference  to  the  length  of  time 
expended  upon  writing  a  sonnet.  Great  artists 
have  often  preferred  to  treat  groups  of  images, 
which  have  already  been  many  times  used  as 
material  for  works  of  art.  The  novelty  of  these 
new  works  has  been  solely  that  of  art  or  form, 
that  is  to  say.  of  the  new  accent  which  they 
have  known  how  to  give  to  the  old  material. 
of  the  new  way  in  which  they  have  felt  and 
therefore  intuified  it,  thus  creating  new  images 
upon  the  old  ones.  ...  If  we  form  an  ar- 
bitrary image  of  any  sort     .     .     .     would  this 

not  be        ...      a   pure    intuition?     .  Cer 

tainly    not  it     is    a    product    of    choict 

.  .  and  choice  i^  i  sternal  to  tie-  world  of 
thought  and  contemplation  .  .  .  from  this 
We  learn  that  an  image,  which  is  not  the  ex- 
pression of  a  state  of  the  soul,  is  not  an  image, 
since    it    is    without    any    theoretical    value:    and 

therefore  it  cannot  he  an  obstacle  to  the  identi- 
fication of  lyricism  and  intuition.     Bui  the  other 

prejudice  is  more  difficult    to  eradicate  .      . 

if  art  be  intuition,  would  it  therefore  he  any  in- 
tuition that  one  might  have  of  a  physical  ob- 
ject, appertaining  to  external  naturet  .  . 
Without  doubt,  the  perception  of  a  physical 
object,  as  such,  does  not  constitute  an  artistic 
fact;  but  precisely  for  the  reason  that  it  is  not 
a  pure  intuition,  but  a  judgment  of  perception, 
and  implies  the  application  of  an  abstract  con- 
cept .  .  .  and  with  this  reflexion  and  per 
ception  we  find  ourselves  outside  the  domain  of 
pure  intuition.  We  could  have  a  pure  percep- 
tion of  a  physical  object  in  one  way  only;  that 
is  to  say.  if  physical  or  external  nature  were  a 
metaphysical  reality,  a  truly  real  reality,  and 
not,  as  it  is.  a  construction  or  abstraction  of  the 
intellect.  If  such  were  the  case,  man  would  have 
an  immediate  intuition,  in  his  first  theoretic 
moment,  both  of  himself  and  of  external  na- 
ture, of  the  spiritual  and  of  the  physical,  in  an 
equal  degree.  This  represents  the  dualistic 
hypothesis.  Rut  just  as  dualism  is  incapable  of 
providing  a  coherent  system  of  philosophy,  so 
it  is  incapable  of  providing  a  coherent  system 

of    Aesthetic Art    on     its     side 

tacitly  protests  against  metaphysical  dualism. 
It  does  so.  because,  being  the  most  immediate 
form  of  knowledge,  it  is  in  contact  with  activity, 
not  with  passivity ;  with  inferiority,  not  exter- 
iority :  with  spirit,  not  with  matter,  and  never 
with  a  double  order  of  reality. 

Such,  in  brief,  is  Croce's  "Aesthetic."  a  work 
which  I  believe  to  be  as  fundamental  to  poetry 
as  the  "Principia"  to  physics,  or  "The  Oriein 
of  Species"  to  biology.  I  have  no  doubt  de- 
stroyed my  own  article  in  presenting  this 
resume,  yet  I  may  boast  that  to  have  written 
a  resume  at  all  of  a  work  already  immensely 
compressed  is  no  small  feat,  and  one  which,  in 
consideration  of  its  utility,  would  of  itself  be 
valuable.  If  hereafter  I  dwell  in  a  reflected 
glory,  I  am  content  that  it  is  a  glory. 

The  root  of  any  difficulty  in  understanding 
this  work,  is  that  the  complexity  of  contem- 
porary art.  in  contrast  to  primitive  art.  creates 
the  illusion  of  a  qualitative  difference.  Thus, 
at  first  sight,  it  appears  that  Croce  contradicts 
himself  when  he  says  in  the  "Aesthetic"  that 
"the  distinction  between  poetry  and  prose  can- 
not be  justified,  save  in  that  of  art  and  science," 
and,  even  further.  "It  was  seen  in  antiquity 
that  such  distinction  could  not  be  founded  on 
•xternal  elements,  such  as  rhyme  and  metre     , 



April,  1919. 

.  .  that  it  was,  on  the  contrary,  altogether 
internal,"  while,  in  the  "Philosophy  of  the 
Practical,"  he  says: 

Every  poet  knows  that  a  poem  is  not  created 
from  an  abstract  plan,  that  the  initial  poetical 
image  is  not  without  rhythm  and  verse  (italics 
mine),  and  that  it  does  not  need  rhythm  and 
verse  applied  to  it  afterwards.  He  knows  that 
it  is  in  reality  a  primitive  intuition-expression, 
in  which  all  is  determined  and  nothing  is  deter- 
mined, and  what  has  already  been  intuified  is 
already  expressed,  and  what  will  afterwards  be 
expressed  will  only  be  afterwards  intuified. 

This  apparent  antinomy  arises  from  the  fact 
that  while  pure  intuition  is  essentially  lyricism, 
it  is  quite  possible  to  have  prosaic  verse.  The 
theoretic  statement  in  the  "Aesthetic"  is  as 
justified  as  the  practical  statement  in  the 
"Philosophy  of  the  Practical,"  and  vice  versa, 
and  thus  we  may  endorse  Arthur  Symons '  ' '  In- 
troduction" to  "The  Romantic  Movement  in 
English  Poetry,"  with  its  clear  distinctions  be- 
1ween  verse,  prose,  the  poetic,  the  prosaic, 
poetry.  So  safeguarded  from  a  mechanical  in- 
terpretation of  form,  Croce  proceeds  in  the 
"Philosophy  of  the  Practical": — 

No  poet  creates  his  poem  outside  definite  con- 
ditions of  time  and  space,  and  even  when  he 
appears  to  be  and  is  proclaimed  "a  soul  of 
other  times,"  he  belongs  to  his  own  time.  The 
historical  situation  is  given  to  him.  The  world 
of  his  perceptions  is  such,  with  those  men,  those 
customs,  those  thoughts,  those  works  of  art. 
But  when  the  new  poem  has  appeared,  there 
is  in  the  world  of  reality  (in  the  contemplation 
of  reality t  something  that  was  not  there  before, 
which,  althoueh  connected  with  the  previous 
situation,  yet  is  not  identical  with  it,  is  indeed 
a  new  form,  and  therefore  a  new  content,  and 
so  the  revelation  of  a  truth  previously  unknown. 
So  true  is  this,  that  in  its  turn  the  new  poem 
conditions  a  spiritual  and  practical  movement, 
becomes  part  of  the  situation  given  for  future 
actions  and  future  poems.  He  is  a  true  poet 
who  feels  himself  at  once  bound  to  his  nredeeess- 
ors  and  free,  conservative  and  revolutionary, 
like  Homer,  Dante  and  Shakespeare,  who  receive 
into  themselves  centuries  of  history,  of  thought 
and  of  poetry,  and  add  to  those  centuries  some- 
thing that  is  the  present  and  will  be  the  future. 
.  .  .  The  false  poet,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
now  a  blind  follower  of  tradition  and  imitator, 
now  a  charlatanesque  innovator,  and  if  in  the 
vacuity  in  which  he  labours  he  sometimes  does 
produce  a  fragment  of  poetry,  this  only  hap- 
pens when  he  is  made  to  look  into  himself  and 
have  a  vision,  be  it  great  or  small,  of  a  world 
that  arises.     (Italics  mine.) 

Vers-librists  and  imagists,  etc.,  will  therefore 
derive   little   comfort,   after  all,   from   what   at 

first  sight  seems  a  charter  for  all  imaginable 
license,  as  Irving  Babbitt  ("The  New  Lao- 
koon")  took  it  to  be.  The  criticism  is,  indeed, 
anticipated  in  "The  Aesthetic"  where  he  speaks 
of  that  "which  is  vulgarly  called  invention." 

The  criticism,  also  by  Irving  Babbitt,  that 
Croce  neglects  the  so-called  "higher  intuitions," 
is  not  well-founded,  for  it  is  met  in  the  passage 
I  have  just  cited,  and  also  where  he  says, 
"Those  concepts  which  are  found  mingled  and 
fused  with  the  intuitions,  are  no  longer  con- 
cepts, in  so  far  as  they  really  are  mingled  and 
fused,"  and  yet  again,  more  specifically  (in 
the  "Aesthetic")  :— 

The  savage  has  speech,  intellect,  religion  and 
morality,  in  common  with  civilized  man.  The 
only  difference  lies  in  that  civilized  man  pene- 
trates and  dominates  a  larger  portion  of  the 
universe  with  his  theoretic  and  practical  ac- 
tivity. We  cannot  claim  to  be  more  spiritually 
alert  than,  for  example,  the  age  of  Pericles ;  but 
no  one  can  deny  that  we  are  richer  than  they — 
rich  with  their  riches  and  with  those  of  how 
many  other  peoples  and  generations  besides  our 

Thus  form  arises  from  form  not  by  mechani- 
cal addition,  but  'by  intuitjional  elaboration ; 
and  content  grows  richer  and  richer  accord- 
ingly as  concepts  cease  to  be  concepts:  so  it  is 
that,  while  a  poet  cannot  write  "to  order," 
when  he  does  write,  he  writes  in  an  orderly 
manner;  so  it  is  that  certain  things  in  modern 
life  seem  out  of  place  in  a  poem,  because  they 
drag  with  them  a  train  of  scientific  associations, 
— Galsworthy's  "The  Silver  Box,"  for  example, 
is  a  sociological  play,  and  we  are  accordingly 
distracted  from  the  artistic  enjoyment  of  it. 

As  I  have  lapsed  for  a  moment  into  the  com- 
mon division  of  form  and  content,  it  may  be 
opportune  for  me  to  put  Croce 's  thesis  in  the 
simplest  manner — that  in  art  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  synonym,  which  is  at  once  seen  to 
be  true. 

The  beauty  of  Croce 's  demonstration  can  best 
be  appreciated  by  showing  it  in  relation  to  other 
criticism,  as,  for  example  Coleridge's  dictum 
that  science  and  not  prose  is  the  true  antithesis 
of  poetry,  the  difference  being  however  that 
Croce 's  work  does  not  consist  of  flashes  of  in- 
sight, but  is  the  steady  light  of  truth  not  mere- 
ly piercing,  but  illuminating  the  darkness. 

Here  is  justified  Theodore  Watts-Dunton's 
famous  definition  of  poetry,  so  far  as  it  goes: 
"Absolute  poetry  is  the  concrete  and  artistic 
expression  of  the  human  mind  in  emotional  and 
rhythmical  language."  Watts-Dunton 's  pecu- 
liar,  and   not  very  well    understood,   qualifica- 

April,  1919. 

GAS  WIAS    BOOR  1/  1  \ 

t  ion,  '  'concrete, '    is  .-it  once  made  1  >r  in- 

tuitions can  only  be  of  things.  Watts  Dunton's 
criticism  of  Matthew  Arnold's  phrase  "criti- 
cism of  life,"  to  the  effecl  thai  such  criticism 
of  life  must,  in  poetry,  be  implicit,  not  explicit, 
is  also  made  clear,  which  is  important,  as  Wbrs 
fold  in  his  "The  Principles  of  Criticism' 
vives  Matthew  Arnold's  criterion. 

Heroin  is  justified  De  Quincey's  distinction 
between  the  literature  of  knowledgi  and  of 
power;  and  herein  is  settled  all  that  Words 
worth  did  say.  or  anyone  else  could  say,  con- 
cerning  pot  tic  tint  ion.  for  a  poetic  diction  (in 
the  reprehensible  sense  of  the  phrase)  is  incon- 
ceivable with  pur<  intuition.  Here  we  find 
Shelley's  "The  Defence  of  Poetry"  correctly 
appraised  as  "the  most  notable  contribution  (of 
its  time),  in  English,  containing  profound  but 
unsystematic,  views,  as  to  tin'  distinction  be- 
tween reason  and  imagination,  prose  and 
poetry,  on  primitive  language,  and  on  the  poetic 
power  of  objeetifieation." 

It  is  as  criticism  has  become  more  exact,  how- 
ever (I  have  had  to  mention  Worsfold  before 
his  time),  that  the  brilliance  of  Croce's  per- 
formance is  most  evident,  and  it  would  be  in- 
teresting to  know  whether  Arthur  Ransome  had, 
or  had  not.  read  Croee  before  writing  his  essay, 
"Art  for  Life's  Sake,"  from  which  I  quote  the 
following : 

Recognising  (1)  that  a  work  of  art  has  a 
political,  comparable  to  its  moral  influence,  (2) 
that  it  always  embodies  knowledge,  (31  that  it 
is  nothing  if  it  does  not  wake  in  us  the  feeling 
that  we  are  near  the  achievement  of  the  beauti- 
ful— we  wish  to  deny  none  of  these  facts,  but  to 
prevent  any  one  of  them  being  taken  as  the 
foundation  of  a  criterion  of  art.  We  wish  to 
set  over  them  a  criterion  of  art  that  shall  in- 
clude them  all.  Above  technique,  above  opinion, 
above  information,  we  set  life,  of  the  special 
kind  that  is  here  described,  whose  conscious  vi- 
tality is  to  unconscious  vitality  what  living  is 
to  existence     .     .  that  man  is  the  greatest 

artist  who  makes  us  the  most  profoundly  eon 
scions  of  life.  Shakespeare  is  set  above  Herrick, 
who  was  a  better  technician,  and  Leonardo  above 
Murillo.  who  painted  more  devotional  subjects, 
on  grounds  with  which  men,  neither  as  artists 
nor  moralists,  need  quarrel. 

There  was  (if  I  remember  rightly)  a  dispute 
as  to  priority  in  the  title  of  this  article  be- 
tween Arthur  Ransome  and  a  French  writer ; 
if  so.  I  must  suspect  that  it  was  a  quarrel  be- 
tween thieves !  I  hope,  however,  that  I  am  mis- 
taken, and  that  it  fell  to  him  to  make  the  first 
clear   statement   in   English   upon   the   relation 

between   art   and   morals,  that   a   poem   HI  0   r 
can  be  neither  moral   nor  immoral. 

I  have  alreadj  alluded  to  Arthur  Bymona' 
"The  Romantic  Movement  in  English  Poetry," 

and  es| ially  the  "Introduction"  thereto. 

cepl  that  it  is  not  rigorously  written,  1  would 
have  chosen  it  instead  of  the  "Aesthetic"  as  my 
prologue.  There  is  here  n<>  question  at  all  of 
indebtedness,  He  takes  up  the  problem  where 
Croce  leaves  it.  Croee  demonstrates  the  in- 
tuitively  lyrical  nature  of  poetry.  At  that  he 
leaves  it.  It  is  only  on  turning  to  the  "Philo- 
sophy of  the  Practical."  that  you  there  find  in 
passant  the  apparent  antinomy.  Symons  on  the 
very  first  page,  by  the  mere  terminology  he 
there  elaborates,  solves  the  practical  problem. 
Prose  is  at  once  seen  to  be  the  most  fitting  but 
not  essential  medium  of  the  prosaic,  as  poetry 
is  the  most  fitting  but  not  essential  medium  of 
the  poetic,  thus : 

The  on.-  safeguard  for  the  poet  is  to  say  to 
himself:  What  1  can  write  in  prose  I  will  not 
allow  myself  to  write  in  verse,  out  of  mere 
honour  to  my  material.  The  further  I  can  ex- 
tend my  prose,  the  further  do  I  set  the  limits  of 
verse.  Th.'  region  of  poetry  wilMhus  always 
be  the  beyond,  the  ultimate,  and  with  the  least 
possible   chance   of   any   confusion    of   territory. 

One  has  only  to  add  to  this,  what  Symons  per- 
fectly well  knows,  that  the  poet  says  to  himself 
nothing  of  the  kind,  but  just  goes  and  does  it. 
The  result  of  a  poet  doing  violence  to  his  in- 
tuition is  seen  in  the  work  of  Meredith.  .  . 
but  perhaps  the  perpetual  complaint  in  the  Let- 
ters, that  he  was  forced  to  write  novels  he- 
cause  poetry  did  not  pay,  shows  him  no  true 
lover  of  the  Muse !  However,  to  be  serious 
again,  neither  Meredith  nor  Hardy,  both  poets 
and  novelists,  are  under  anyr  illusion  as  to  the 
fundamental  difference  between  writing  a  novel 
and  a  poem,  and  we  need  not  waste  time,  at 
this  stage,  on  Worsfold 's  further  contention 
that  novels  should  be  again  called,  as  they  once 
were,  poems. 

Sir  Henry  Newbolt,  collecting  his  papers  in 
"The  English  Review."  under  the  title,  "A 
Xew  Study  of  English  Poetry,"  is  almost  a 
Simon-pure  disciple  of  Croce's.  Croce  is  open- 
ly mentioned  only  in  the  chapter,  "The  Poet 
and  his  Audience,"  and  it  is  to  take  issue  with 
him — which  is  rather  ungenerous,  as  he  is  the 
power  behind  the  throne  in  passage  after  pass- 
age elsewhere,  —  yet  the  acknowledgment  is 
more  inadequate  than  ungenerous.  The  very 
figure  of  the  crucible  in  which  "the  aesthetic 
and  the  intellectual  materials  are  so  effectually 



April,  j 919. 

reduced  to  one  substance  that  the  whole  mass 
becomes  one  single  though  highly  complex  in- 
tuition" occurs  in  the  chapter  "The  Approach 
to  Shakespeare,"  and  the  chapter,  "Poetry  and 
Personality"  is  built  up  on  Croce 's  statement 
concerning  genius,  the  figure  of  the  crucible, 
and  this  passage  in  the  "Aesthetic"  which  fol- 
lows it : 

This  also  explains  why  it  is  customary  to  at- 
tribute to  artists  alike  the  maximum  of  sensi- 
bility or  passion,  and  the  maximum  insensi- 
bility or  Olympic  serenity.  Both  qualifications 
agree,  for  they  do  not  refer  to  the  same  object. 
The  sensibility  or  passion  relates  to  the  rich  ma- 
terial which  the  artist  absorbs  into  his  psychic 
organism ;  the  insensibility  or  serenity  to  the 
form  with  which  he  subjugates  and  dominates 
the  tumult  of  the  feelings  and  of  the  passions. 

So  closely,  indeed,  does  Sir  Henry  follow 
Croce,  that,  although  he  has  dared  to  criticize 
the  master  in  one  respect,  it  would  appear  that 
he  has  deferred  in  another,  even  against  his 
own  poetic  practice — such  is  the  force  of  logic ! 
.  .  .  or  is  it  that  Sir  Henry  has  not  read 
the  "Philosophy  of  the  Practical"?  For  he 
essays  a  new  definition  of  poetry : 

Poetry  is  the  expression  in  speech,  more  or 
less  rhythmical,  of  the  aesthetic  activity  of  the 
human  spirit,  the  creative  activity  by  which  the 
world  is  presented  to  our  consciousness.  Good 
poetry  is  not  merely  the  expression  of  our  in- 
tuitions, it  is  the  masterly  expression  of  rare, 
complex  and  difficult  states  of  consciousness; 
and  great  poetry,  the  poetry  which  has  power 
to  stir  many  men  and  stir  them  deeply,  is  the 
expression  of  our  consciousness  of  this  world, 
tinged  with  man's  universal  longing  for  a  world 
more  perfect,  nearer  to  the  heart's  desire. 

You  see !  the  language  is  quite  Crocean !  But 
before  I  note  the  defect  of  this  definition,  let 
me  point  out  the  exceeding  beauty  of  that  part 
of  it  relating  to  great  poetry.  Not  in  the  vul- 
gar sense,  poetry  is  ideal.  As  Arthur  Symons 
says,  "There  is  no  form  of  art  which  is  not  an 
attempt  to  capture  life,  to  create  life  over 
again."  But  this  also  is  not  to  be  read  in  the 
vulgar  sense.  The  latter  would  lead  to  the 
theory  of  art  as  imitation.  The  former  would 
lead  to  worse  still — the  redeeming  power  of 
good  intentions — but  it  is  perhaps  more  true  in 
art  than  anywhere  else,  that  these  pave  the 
floors  of  Hell.  The  ideal  in  the  strict  sense, 
follows  naturally  from  the  theory  of  art  as 
intuition,  and  the  equivocations  of  the  strict 
S  use  are  duly  dealt  with  by  Croce. 

But  why  that  "more  or  less  rhythmical"?  I 
see  the  novel  creeping  in  by  the  backdoor,  and 

surely  enough  it  does!  (p.  23).  What  is  the 
reason  for  this  diffidence  over  rhythm?  Croce, 
as  I  have  said,  concerned  in  the  "Aesthetic" 
with  the  theoretic  only,  finds  no  distinction  be- 
tween prose  and  poetry,  except  in  art  and 
science.  Yet,  in  the  "Philosophy  of  the  Prac- 
tical," he  implies  the  natural  corollary  of  the 
definition  of  pure  intuition  as  essentially  lyric- 
ism, the  corollary  which  Symons  makes  explicit. 
The  reason  is,  I  think,  the  paralysing  fear  that 
just  as  some  dry-as-dust  critics  of  the  poets 
of  the  romantic  revival  have  since  been  made 
to  look  very  foolish,  so  the  critic  who  should 
set  up  bounds  to-day  may  in  like  manner  be 
confounded  to-morrow.  Yet,  what  "every  poet 
knows"  is  surely  not  so  indefinite?  What 
does  "every  poet"  do?  "Every  poet"  employs 
rhythm  of  a  regular  and  recurrent  kind.  When 
the  practice  of  seven  centuries  of  poetry,  starred 
with  the  most  diverse  geniuses,  can  be  shown  to 
be  reducible  to  a  common  denominator,  it  is  a 
fair  deduction  that  this  is  due  not  to  any  arbit- 
rary decree,  but  to  a  vital  principle,  and  that 
to  enunciate  it,  is  not  to  vie  with  the  folly 
of  Canute,  but,  on  the  contrary,  is  to  discern 
the  motion  of  the  tides.  Prosody  is  no  more 
jurisprudence  than  is  science. 

The  practice  of  "every  poet"  has  been  ex- 
amined by  Prof.  Saiutsbury,  whose  irrefragible 
conclusions  I  give : 

Every  modern  English  verse  shows  a  nisus 
(an  effort)  towards  being  composed  of  feet  of 
one,  two  or  three  syllables.  The  foot  of  one 
syllable  is  always,  long,  strong,  stressed,  accent- 
ed, what-not.  The  foot  of  two  syllables  usually 
consists  of  one  lonpr  and  one  short  syllable,  and 
though  it  is  not  essential  that  either  should 
come  first,  the  short  precedes  rather  more  com- 
monly. The  foot  of  three  syllables  never  has 
more  than  one  long  syllable  in  it,  and  that 
syllable,  save  in  the  most  exceptional  rhythms, 
is  always  the  first  or  the  third.  In  modern 
poetry,  by  no  means  usually,  but  not  seldom,  it 
has  no  Ion?  syllable  at  all.  The  foot  of  one  syl- 
lable is  practically  not  found  except  in  the 
first  or  last  place  of  a  line,  at  a  strong  caesura 
or  break.  The  foot  of  two  syllables  and  three 
syllables  may,  subject  to  the  rules  below,  be 
found  anywhere.  .  .  These  feet  of  two  and 
three  syllables  may  be  very  freely  substituted 
for  each  other.  There  is  a  certain  metrical  norm 
which  must  not  be  confused  by  too  frequent 
substitution.  (Italics  mine.)  In  no  case,  or 
hardly  any  case,  must  such  combinations  be  put 
together  so  that  a  juxtaposition  of  more  than 
three  short  syllables  results. 

J.  B.  Mayor  ("Chapters  on  English  Metre") 
cites  from  Tennyson  half  a  dozen  lines  which 
show  that  three  unstressed  syllables  can  come 

April,  1919. 

CANADIAN    r.ook  MAS 

I  ■ 

QaUopmg    of  hor  I  sea  o  |  ver  tin-  grass  |  y 

Petulant  !  she  spoke  '  and  al  |  herself  |  she 

Modulatt     mi  soul    of  min  !  cing  mi  |  micry 
Hammering     and  clink  !  ing  chat   |  tering 

sto  !  ny  names 
Glorify     ing  clown  |  and  sat  ]  yr  whence 

they  need 
Timorous  j  >'.</  "»</  as  !  the  lead  |  er  of  |  the 


But  it  will  be  at  once  seen  that  Prof.  Saints 
bury's  "hardly  any  case"  is  quite  justified. 
Even  so,  Prof.  Saintsbury's  dictum,  that  the 
metrical  norm  of  the  line  must  not  be  departed 
from,  is  observed  in  the  most  artful  of  these 
lines,  the  last,  which  scans:  dactyl,  anapaest, 
iamb,  iamb,  iamb — and  the  norm  is  seen  to  be 
iambic.  They  are  all  the  studied  effects  of  one 
who   was   ever   more   a   craftsman    than   a   seer. 

That  this  the  only  rational  way  of  analysing 
verse,  and  that  unlimited  substitutions,  based 
on  the  musical  analogy  of  crotchets,  quavers. 
and  semi-quavers,  are  absurd,  may  very  easily 
be  shown  by  writing  two  six-stress  lines  with 
totally  different   rhythms: 

Sir    Richard    spoke    and    he    laughed    and 

we  roared  a  hurrah  and  so 
With   head,   hands,   wings,   or  feet  pursues 

his   way. 

The  most  fitting  comment  on  the  "stress- 
system''  is  that  Sidney  Lanier's  poetry  is  all 
explicable  without  it,  for  the  reason  that,  what- 
ever theories  he  held  in  his  ratiocinative  mo- 
ments, he  cast  them  aside  in  the  moment  of  in- 
tuition ;  whilst  Robert  Bridges,  writing  his 
"The  Feast  of  Bacchus"  in  a  merely  ratiocin- 
ative manner,  has  written  something  which 
could  never  be  called  poetry,  and  which  is  pro- 
perly torn  into  shreds,  piece  by  piece,  by  Mayor. 

I  should  be  wasting  time  to  discuss  the  "sylla- 
bic-system, ' '  and  so  I  record  my  agreement  with 
Prof.  Saintsbury  that: 

The  foot-system,  with  equivalence  and  sub- 
stitution allowed,  neither  neglects  nor  sup- 
presses any  part  of  the  line  in  any  case,  but 
accounts  fully  for  all  parts.  It  applies  to  poetry 
only,  and,  to  a  large  extent,  explains  the  differ- 
ence between  good  poetry  and  bad.  It  adjusts 
itself  to  the  entire  history  of  English  verse, 
since  the  language  took  the  turn  which  made  it 
English  in  the  full' sense.  It  requires  no  metri- 
cal fictions,  no  suppression  of  syllables,  no  al- 
lowance of  extra-metrical  ones,  no  alteration  in 
pronouncing,  no  conflict  between  accent  and 
quantity.  Xo  period  or  kind  of  English  poetry 
is  pronounced  wrong  by  it,  though  it  may  allow 

that   certain    periods  have  exercised   their   rights 
and   privileges  more  fully  than  others.      Iii  short, 

it   takes  the  poetry  as  it   is.  and   has  been   for 
seven    hundred    years   at    least;    bars   nothing; 
carves,  cuts  and  corrects  nothing;  begs  no  ques 
tions;  involves  no  make  believes:  but  accepts  the 

facts,  and  makes  out  of  them  what,  and  what 
only,   the  facts  will   bear. 

Emphasizing   again    that    these    are    not    lerral 

enactments,    but    principles   dedi d    from    the 

practice  of  the  poets,  let  me  also  emphasise  that 

it  is  by  them  that  we  may,  in  (Voce's  words, 
most  assuredly  know  both  the  "blind  follower 
of  tradition  and  imitator,"  and  also  the  "char- 
latanesque  innovator."  And,  if  it  be  urged 
that  I  have  only  spoken  of  English  poetry.  I 
reply  that,  whatever  be  the  language,  its  poetry 
will  be  distinguished  from  its  prose  by  the  same 
i  ssential  difference  in  rhythm.  For  example, 
many  foolish  things  have  been  said  about  the 
Authorised  Version  of  the  Book  of  Job,  and  of 
the  Psalms,  in  this  connection,  sometimes  by 
those  who  ought  at  least  to  know  that  Hebrew 
poetry  has  laws  just  as  "tyrannous"  as  those 
which   govern   English. 

If,  by  his  "more  or  less,"  Sir  Henry  Newbolt 
had  meant  the  difference  between  "Piers  Plow- 
man," the  "Canterbury  Tales"  and  the  "Pro- 
thalamion,"  between  rudimentary  and  articu- 
lated rhythm.  I  should  have  no  quarrel  with 
him;  but  he  clearly  means  that  the  poet  of  to- 
day may,  without  loss,  forego  his  inheritance 
from  the  ages,  and  adopt  an  aesthetico-logical 
form— the  novel.  He  forgets  that  the  true  poet 
of  to-day  does  not  say,  "I  will  write  a  sonnet 
on  'that'."  "That"  comes  to  him  as  a  sonnet. 
If  he  does  say,  "I  will,"  the  result  is  at  once 
seen  to  be  frigid.  It  is,  as  I  have  said,  the 
complexity  of  modern  poetry,  which  produces 
the  illusion  of  a  qualitative  difference  between 
a  lyric  by  Burns  or  Blake,  and  "St.  Agnes 

It  is  the  same  complexity  that  leads  to  par- 
tial criteria,  such  as  Matthew  Arnold's.  But 
the  one  condition  that  "isms"  and  "osophies" 
enter  into  poetry,  is  that  they  shall  cease  to  be 
"isms"  and  "osophies."  By  this,  poetry  as 
the  universal  is  also  shown  to  be  false.  As  a 
special  criterion,  it  would  lead  to  poets  of  the 
Urge  being  ascribed  the  greatest.  The  universal 
belongs  to  science.  Poetry  can  only  be  univer- 
sal by  the  range  of  things  and  ideas  it  can  trans- 
mute in  the  flame  of  the  imagination.  In  this 
sense,  Shakespeare  was  a  universal  poet, 

It  will  be  superfluous  for  me  to  offer  a  de- 
finition of  poetry  on  my  own  behalf.     To  do  so. 



April,  1919. 

would  be  only  to  cross  the  i's  and  dot  the  t's 
of  all  that  the  method  of  this  synthesis  implies. 
If  the  spirit  of  it  is  to  be  summarised,  I  shall 
say  that,  in  a  word,  all  special  pleading  is  for- 
eign to  true  poetry,  whether  it  be  in  Words- 
worth's prefaces,  or  those  of  Amy  Lowell  or 
Edgar  Lee  Masters  (who  announces  in  his  pre- 
face to  "Towards  The  Gulf,"  that  his  object 
is  to  mirror  the  age  and  the  country  in  which 
he  lives — which  Tennyson  did  far  better  by  not 
taking  thought  about  it).  I  should  like  to  say 
that  all  the  critics  whom  I  have  laid  under 
tribute  will  repay  the  deepest  respect  and  at- 
tention— even  Mr.  Worsfold,  whom  I  only  had 
to  take  exception  to,  because  he^  made  just  this 
error  of  making  explicit  what  should  only  be 

implicit, — but  Croce  and  Symons  alone  show  a 
complete  grasp  of  the  question.  The  corner- 
stones of  a  sound  critical  method  will  be  iden- 
tity of  intuition  and  lyricism  (Croce),  poetry  as 
distinct  from  prose  as  the  natural  form  (Sy- 
mons, soiind  prosody  (Prof.  Saintsbury). 

Rhyme  is  con  discrezione. 

Poetry  is  almost  everything  incidentally,  but 
essentially,  as  Symons,  the  "end  of  poetry"  is 
"to  be  poetry,"  or  as  Croce  says,  poetry  is 
lyric  intuition,  or  as  I  put  it,  the  poetic  in  verse. 

Lafacadio  Hearn  developed  no  formal  theory 
of  poetry,  but  the  extraordinary  taste,  balance 
and  discrimination  displayed  in  his  four  books 
of  criticism,  might  well  have  been  based  upon 
this  implicit  definition. 

A  Dream  of  Japanese  Prints 


U  IROSHIGE,    Hokusai, 

Hail  to  you,  good  fellows; 
Bald-pate  dreamers  of  the  sky, 
Silver  storks  and  fish  that  fly, 
Lakes  and  moons  and  maidens  shy, 
In  old  blues  and  yellows; 

Dawn  pink,  gold  and  malachite. 
"Floating   World"    illusions, 
Water-falls    in    star-struck   light, 
Fuji  Yama's  fabled  height, 
Cherry  petals  falling  white, 
Old  Japan's  profusions; 

Lines   of   immemorial   grace, 
Scented,  magic  pages, 
Spring-frost  dreams  of  airy  lace, 
Winter  moon  in  chambered  space, 
Phantom  calm  of  oval  face, 
Shinto  gods  and  mages. 

Sweetheart,  would  that  you  and  I 
Towards  Tokio  were  wending, 
You,  a  two-sword  Samurai 
Boldly  sashed  in  fashion  high, 
T,  a  lotos-princess  shy, 
Upward  glances  sending. 

April,  1919. 



The  "Colyum"  in  Canada 


Illustrations  by  J.  B.  PITZMAURICE 

IN  contemporary  annals  the  newspaper 
humorist  is  almost  invariably  presented  in 
a  false  light. 

He  is  pictured  as  an  exceedingly  morose  and 
reticent  person  in  intercourse  with  his  fellow 
man,  a  person  who  is  as  dull  as  an  old  pewter 
mug  in  public,  and  who  shines  only  when 
pounding  of  a  typewriter  or  sharpening  up  a 
quip   in   the   proof. 

A  Press  Humorists'  convention  is  commonly 
supposed  to  be  every  bit  as  cheerful  as  a  meeting 
of  the  undertakers  of  a  successful  health  re- 
sort. Whenever  the  paragraphers  convene, 
some  gay  young  genius  on  the  reportorial  staff 
of  the  local  paper  rushes  to  his  Remington  and 
hammers  out  a  funny  story  about  the  funny 
men,  letting  the  public  into  the  secret.   He  repre- 

"Daly's  the   fellow   who   writes   all   the   funny  stuff 
in  the   Evening   Blare." 

sents  the  gathering  as  very  nearly  as  solemn  as 
a  Quaker  Sabbath  and  as  cheerless  as  the  bank- 
ruptcy court.  He  describes  with  a  wonderful 
wealth  of  detail  the  appearance  of  the  dele- 
gates, sitting  around  glaring  mournfully  at  one 
another,  and  he  always  propounds  the  theory 
that  they  are  all  afraid  to  spring  anything 
funny  lest  some  other  delegate  may  steal  it. 

This  is  the  good  old  stock  story  about  the 
press  humorists.  Like  some  of  the  war  reports 
that  emanated  from  Berlin,  it  contains  a  very 
small  grain  of  truth.  The  press  humorist  is 
certainly  not  always  blithe  and  gay.  Among 
his  fellows  he  is  generally  a  merry  soul,  but  in 
public — well,  in  public  he  is  apt  to  be  just  a  com- 
mon ordinary  citizen  like  the  stockbroker,  or  the 
government  clerk,  or  the  milkman. 

He  is  sometimes  sad  very  sad.  If  you  had 
spent  some  nine  hours  in  a  newspaper  office 
struggling  with  the  eul>  reporter's  grammar, 
trying  to  decipher  indecipherable  sheets  of 
telegraphic  despatches,  squabbling  with  print- 
ers, getting  yourself  messed  up  with  mucilage, 
translating  the  owner's  political  ambitions  into 
innocent-looking  editorial  comment,  losing  your 
shears  just  when  you  want  to  clip  something 
important,  reading  the  proofs  of  the  Sunday 
sermon,  faking  the  thermometer  readings,  and 
doing  a  score  or  more  of  other  journalistic 
chores,  and  you  then  sat  down  before  a  pile  of 
blank  paper  with  perfectly  blank  brain,  and 
knew  that  you  could  not  go  home  until  you  had 
worried  out  a  column  of  bright  and  breezy  para- 
graphs upon  passing  events — or  if  you  did  go 
home  before  finishing  off  the  column,  knew 
that  you  would  have  to  spend  the  evening  mind- 
ing the  baby  with  one  hand  and  writing  jokes 
with  the  other — well,  wouldn't  you  feel  sad? 

The  press  humorist  is  very  often  reticent,  but 
that  is  not  because  he  fears  that  some  one  is 
going  to  steal  his  jokes.  It  is  simply  because  he 
knows  that  if  he  is  too  communicative  he  will  be 
expected  to  light  up  the  proceedings  with  a  few 
brilliant  wheezes.  And  the.  average  press  hum- 
orist does  not  combust  spontaneously.  It  is  a 
difficult  thing  to  be  spontaneously  humorous. 
It  can  be  done,  of  course.  George  Ham  can  do 
it,  but  then  he  doesn't  have  to  grind  out  a 
whole  column  of  it  every  day,  rain  or  shine. 

The  press  humorist  is  generally  of  a  retir- 
ing disposition.  He  has  even  been  known  to 
slink  home  by  the  by-ways  and  back  alleys.  If 
he  is  well  known  in  the  community  he  has  to, 
not  necessarily  to  dodge  bill-collectors,  but  to 
avoid  being  waylaid  by  the  individual  who 
knows  just  how  a  humorous  column  should  be 
conducted.  This  party  has  a  habit  of  turning 
up  at  unexpected  places. 

"Say!"  he  exclaims,  stopping  the  unfortu- 
nate paragrapher,  "I  have  something  good 
for  your  colyum. " 

Then,  after  fishing  about  in  his  pockets  for 
a  few  minutes,  he  produces  a  clipping  from 
"Tit-Bits"  containing  a  jest  that  the  late  Joe 
Miller  rejected  as  old  stuff. 



April,  1019. 

The  press  humorist  may  dodge  the  party  with 
the  clipping,  but  he  has  a  hard  time  dodging  the 
Enthusiastic  Friend.  The  Enthusiastic  Friend 
is  generally  a  nice  fellow  who  means  well,  but 
he  is  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  nevertheless.  He  is 
liable  to  drift  into  the  office  without  the  slight- 
est warning  at  any  time.  He  always  brings  an- 
other party  with  him. 

"Joe,"  he  gurgles  excitedly  as  he  pushes  his 
companion  forward,  "I  want  you  to  meet  Mr. 
Daly  Rimes.  Daly's  the  fellow  who  writes  all 
the  funny  stuff  in  the  Evening  Blare.  Didja 
read  that  one  he  had  in  yesterday  about  the 
aldermen?  That  was  a  pippin!  Howd'ja  ever 
think  of  that  one,  Daly? 

Then  he  stands  and  gazes  with  fond  expect- 
ancy upon  the  blushing  paragrapher  somewhat 
in  the  attitude  of  a  man  exhibiting  a  pup, 
which  he  has  just  taught  a  new  trick.  He  is 
waiting  for  the  paragrapher  to  perform.  And 
if  the  luckless  newspaper  wight  fails  to  come 
through  with  something  which  evokes  a  real 
hearty  laugh  from  the  party  for  whose  benefit 
he  is  being  exhibited,  the  Enthusiastic  Friend 
will  stab  him  with  an  expression  of  pained  sur- 
prise, and  on  the  face  of  the  Enthusiastic 
Friend's  friend  will  be  written  the  verdict, 
"Punk  show!  Certainly  not  worth  climbing  all 
those  stairs!" 

The  Enthusiastic  Friend  always  adopts  an 
air  of  proprietorship  in  regard  to  the  para- 
grapher that  is  particularly  annoying.  He  is  a 
patron  of  Art,  and  he  prides  himself  on  it  even 
though  his  patronage  costs  him  nothing  but  his 
idle  moments.  He  glimmers  in  a  sort  of  reflect- 
ed glory. 

And  yet  the  attitude  of  the  Enthusiastic 
Friend  always  conveys  the  impression  that,  if 
he  cared  to  bother  with  such  things,  he  could 
turn  out  a  much  better  "Colyum"  than  the  par- 
agrapher himself.  He  has  never  fabricated  a 
jest  or  a  jingle,  or  perpetrated  an  acute-angled 
remark  in  his  life,  but  of  course  he  knows  very 
well  that  he  could — it  is  merely  a  matter  of 
sitting  down  at  a  rather  untidy  desk  with  a 
good  supply  of  copy  paper. 

He  is  wrong.  Turning  out  a  column  of  para- 
graphs is  a  hard  day's  toil  for  any  one  man. 
It  is  not  the  actual  amount  of  stuff  that  is  turn- 
ed out,  but  the  amount  of  thought  that  the 
cohimn  of  print  implies.  In  the  average  care- 
fully-wrought column  you  will  find  enough 
ideas  to  furnish  material  for  two  or  three  edi- 
torial pages.  It  is  merely  a  matter  of  expand- 
ing them  and  infusing  the  combination  of  pon- 
derous  solemnity    of   phrase   and   light-hearted 

inaccuracy  of  fact  that  is  the  hall-mark  of  the 
Canadian  daily  newspaper  editorial.  In  fact, 
it  has  been  said,  perfectly  truthfully  said,  that 
the  newspaper  paragraph  is  merely  the  editorial 
in  its  shortest  possible  form. 

The  editorial  writer  comments  upon  three  or 
four  subjects  per  day.  The  paragrapher  must 
seek  out  fifteen  to  twenty  subjects  to  comment 
upon,  and  he  must  deal  with  them  in  a  man- 
ner that  is  going  to  tickle  the  reader's  fancy. 
This  is  not  a  light  task,  particularly  as  finan- 
cial conditions  of  the  Canadian  papers  do  not 
allow  of  the  employment  of  paragraphers  or 
column  conductors,  merely  as  such,  practically 
all  of  them  having  to  look  after  various  other 
journalistic  jobs  as  well.  If  you  have  any  idea 
that  the  position  is  a  sinecure,  ask  the  first 
paragrapher  you  chance  to  meet    and    be     en- 

"Say!    I    have  something  good  for  your  colyum." 

lightened.  Let  me,  in  the  role  of  Enthusiastic 
Friend,  introduce  you  to  a  few  of  them. 

Come,  first,  to  the  office  of  the  Toronto  News 
where  we  will  find  the  owner  of  the  magic  in- 
itials "J.E.M. "  which  appeared  at  the  foot  of 
the  "On  the  Side"  column  for  many  years.  He 
is  Jesse  Edgar  Middleton,  Grand  High  Priest 
of  the  Gentle  Josh  and  president  emeritus  of 
the  Royal  Society  of  Colyum  Hitters. 

A  few  months  ago  the  "On  the  Side"  column 
disappeared  from  the  editorial  page  of  the 
News,  Mr.  Middleton  having  been  forced  to  as- 
sume new  editorial  tasks  which  made  the  carry- 
ing on  of  the  column  an  impossibility  for  the 
present.  I  believe  "On  the  Side"  will  be  back 
in  the  News  soon,  or  Toronto  will  have  more 
rioting.  And  personally  I  would  not  blame  the 
News  readers  for  taking  the  law  into  their 
hands  should  the  column  be  withheld  much 

April.  1019. 

'    i  \  i />/.i. v   'BOOR  1/  i  \ 


We  ascend  a  somewhal  dingy  flight  of  staira 
to  the  second  floor.  As  Enthusiastic  Friend, 
We  of  course  burst  righl  into  the  room  without 
knocking.  Mr.  Middleton  is  sitting  al  a  large 
desk,  much  littered  with  papers.  He  looks 
up  witli  a  somewhat  uncertain,  uneasy  air. 
Newton  McOonnell,  who  cartoons  industrious- 
ly in  a  corner  of  the  same  office,  si/.es  us  up  over 

the  top  of  his  high-slanting  drawing  hoard. 
Both  appear  a  trifle  apprehensive.  Evidently 
they  fear  the  worst.  Most  likely  We  are  going 
to  produce  a  clipping  from  "Tit- Hits"  and 
offer  it  as  a  contribution  to  "On  the  Side." 

Mr.  Middleton  is  inclined  to  look  upon  the 
would-be  contributor  with  suspicion.  He  be- 
lieves that  it  is  perfectly  legitimate  for  the  edi- 
tor of  a  humorous  column  to  look  a  gift  joke 
in  the  mouth.     He  once  declared  to  me: 

Before  a  pile  of  blank  paper  with  a  perfectly  blank 

"I  have  noticed  in  colyuining  that  the  con- 
tributors one  does  not  want  are  plentiful,  and 
the  others  like  hens'  dentistry  for  scarcity." 

Despite,  or  perhaps  (on  second  thought)  be- 
cause of  this  attitude.  "On  the  Side"  had  a 
following  of  remarkably  clever  "contribs. " 
Mr.  Middleton  organized  "The  Royal  Society 
of  Colyum  Hitters,"  and  a  fellowship  in  the  so- 
ciety' involved  a  stiff  matriculation  test.  Mr. 
Middleton  was  never  so  lavish  with  his  honors 
as  was  the  government. 

The  day  that  Middleton  was  born  he  took  a 
good  look  at  the  world  and  saw  that  it  was 
funny.  His  face  wrinkled  up  into  a  cherubic 
smile  and  he  gave  a  good-natured  gurgle  of  de- 
light. He  thought:  "No  one  can  possibly  take 
this  place  seriously:  I  bet  I  can  have  a  lot  of 
fun  with  it  as  soon  as  I  become  strong  enough 
to  pound  a  typewriter."  That  outlook  upon 
the  world  he  retains  to  the  present  day,  and  the 

little  wrinkles  at  tin-  corners  of  his  cy-s  beam 
out  a  reflection  of  that  first  smile.  Middleton 
first   saw   the  urn-Id   through   the   windows  of  the 

Methodist    parsonage   at    Pilkington    township. 

Wellington  county,  Ontario.  The  Methodist 
parson  is  much  on  the  move.  He  is  supposed 
always  to  settle  up,  but   he  never    can     settle 

down.  Therefore  Middleton.  ;i-  ;i  boy,  had  op- 
portunity of  studying  human  nature  in  various 
places,  and  he  always  found  it  amusing.  He 
studied  other  things  at  Strathroy  Collegiate  In- 
stitute  and    at    the   Dutton    High    School.      His 

first   real  .joke  was  at  tl xpense  of  the  writing 

fraternity.  He  went  to  Cleveland.  Ohio,  and 
became  a  proof  reader.  II.-  continued  that  jo' 
on  the  Cleveland  writers  for  three  years,  and 
then,  escaping  somehow  with  his  life,  he  fled 
to  Quebec  City  and  went  over  to  the  other  side. 
He  became  a  writer.  After  passing  his  cub 
hood  on  the  Quebec  papers,  he  went  to  Toronto 
as  musical  critic  of  the  Mail  anil  Empire.  In 
1904  Sir  John  Willison  gathered  up  an  all-star 
staff  for  the  News.  Middleton  was  picked  as 
Dramatic  Editor.  He  moved  to  the  News  office 
and  began  to  "do"  the  drama. 

Then  one  day,  when  Middletoij  was  still  fol- 
lowing the  trail  which  led  Bernard  Shaw  to  pub- 
licity and  pelf,  the  well-known  and  much-dis- 
cussed tide  within  the  affairs  of  men  turned, 
and   the   initials  "J.E.M."   adorned   a   column. 

Sir  John  Willison  happened  into  the  local 
room  and  asked  all  the  men  there  assembled  to 
write  him  a  few  paragraphs  from  time  to  time 
for  use  on  the  editorial  page.  Middleton  forth- 
with did  a  dozen,  and  coopered  up  a  little  light 
verse  as  well.  The  next  day  he  was  a  para- 
graphic permanency.  None  of  the  other  men 
had  done  any.  Middleton  had  unconsciously 
accepted  the  nomination. 

"A  great  moral  thesis  might  be  written  on  this 
text."  declares  J.E.M. ,  "something  about  seiz- 
ing the  passing  hour." 

And  now.  having  met  the  mysterious 
"J.E.M.",  perhaps  you  would  like  to  ask  him 
something  about  the  labor  involved  in  grinding 
out  a  daily  column,  or,  as  he  might  term  it,  a 
"perpendicular  of  persiflage."  or  "an  obelisk 
of  observation."  Here  is  his  answer,  clipped 
from  "On  The  Side": 

If  I  get  up  at  Six  o'clock 

(I  did  that  thing  this  morning) 
Disdaining  the  last  forty  winks 

And    Sloth's   inducements  scorning. 
Then  I  can  sit  me  down  to  write 

In  silence  and  the  kitchen 
(The  very  thing  I'm  doing  now> 

Our  Littachoor  enrichin'. 



April,  1019. 

If  I  remain  abed  till  Seven 

(The  deed  sometimes  is  done) 
I  cannot  twang  the  lyre  until 

The  day's  work  is  begun, 
Then   interruptions   come,   and   proofs, 

And  papers  I  must  read ; 
Tin-  first  fine  flow'r  of  rhythmic  thought 

(Alas!)  has  gone  to  seed. 

But  if  I  snored  till  Eight  o'clock, 

My  life  were  dull  and  grey, 
I  would  be  laboring  at  rhymes 

Through  all  the  weary  day. 
And  savage  printers  would  appear 

Ere  ever  I  could  hide, 
All  growling  in  their  furious  way: 

"WELL!  Where  is  On  The  Side?" 

Thus  I  reveal  their  savage  tricks. 

Needs  must,  when  printers  drive, 
And  therefore  I  arise  at  Six 

(Thank  Heaven  it  isn't  Five). 

There  is  a  smiling  personality  beaming  out 
of  J.E.M.'s  column  that  is  irresistible.  He  has 
an  inimitable  way  of  tickling  the  reader's 
fancy  with  quaint  and  unusual  phrases,  and  he 
writes  for  all  classes.  He  has  a  genius  for  rhyme 
and  can  knock  together  a  verse  on  any  con- 
ceivable subject  at  a  moment's  notice.  But  the 
jingle  and  the  josh  are  not  his  only  song  as  is 
evidenced  by  a  volume  of  very  fine  patriotic 
verse  recently  published. 

H.  D.  Carman,  of  the  Toronto  Star,  does  not 
undertake  a  full  column  every  day,  but  never- 
theless he  does  his  daily  bit  to  enliven  this  dull 
world.  "A  Little  Bit  of  Everything"  con- 
sists of  from  a  quarter  of  a  column  to  half  a 
column  of  cheer  and  is  one  of  the  Star's  bright- 
est features.  Mr.  Carman  generally  waltmasons 
on  some  topical  subject  and  then  runs  a  dozen 
or  so  pert  and  pertinent  paragraphs,  with  now 
and  then  a  bit  of  light  verse  sandwiched  in 

"A  Little  Bit  of  Everything"  was  originated 
by  H.  F.  Gadsby,  who  for  some  years  now  has 
been  devoting  his  literary  energies  to  brighten- 
ing up  the  political  life  of  the  Capital.  His 
articles  are  syndicated  to  newspapers  through- 
out the  Dominion.  Mr.  Gadsby  is  now  one  of 
Canada's  leading  humorists,  but  he  began  his 
career  as  a  humble  paragrapher.  When  he  left 
the  Toronto  Star  to  'write-up"  Ottawa,  and 
Ottawa's  inhabitants,  Mr.  Carman  became  skip- 
per of  the  "Bit  of  Everything"  column. 

Mr.  Carman  was  born  in  Sarnia.  That  was 
so  long  ago  that  he  has  forgotten  the  details,  he 
declares,  but  he  does  not  believe  the  event  was 
essentially   different   from   millions   of   similar 

events  which  have  occurred  in  well  regulated 
families,  both  before  and  since.  He  was— but 
let  him  tell  it  in  his  own  way : 

" I'evolved  from  the  printer's  case  to  the  desk 
after  many  vicissitudes,  during  which  I  grew  up 
and  acquired  as  little  education  as  the  teachers 
would  let  me  off  with.  My  humorous  faculties 
— such  as  they  are — lay  dormant,  I  think,  until 
I  was  21,  when  I  put  up  a  joke  on  one  of  the 
girls,  who  didn't  realize  it  until  she  found  her- 
self tied  up  to  me  for  life.  I  have  had  the 
laugh  on  her  ever  since. 

"My  first  experience  in  daily  newspaper  work 
was  on  the  Sarnia  Post.  My  career  there  was 
brilliant,  so  much  so  that  the  paper  died  and 
then  I  went  to  the  then  prosperous  London 
Daily  News.  I  remained  until  I  saw  that  paper 
safely  into  the  decline,  and  then  joined  the  To- 
ronto Daily  Star  staff,  where  they  have  let  me 
stay  ever  since." 

I  asked  Mr.  Carman  for  his  real,  honest-to- 
goodness  opinion  of  the  paragrapher 's  trade. 

"I  have  wholesome  respect  for  the  occupa- 
tion," he  declared.  "I  regard  the  paragraph  as 
the  neatest  thing  that  was  ever  invented  in  the 
editorial  line,  inasmuch  as  the  paragrapher  has 
the  privilege  of  driving  the  nail  home  with 
one  brief,  lusty  swat,  while  the  leader  writer 
has  to  hammer  through  half  to  a  whole  column 
of  space  to  drive  the  same  idea  home.  Life 
for  many  is  a  sad,  stern  grind  from  the  cradle 
to  the  grave,  and  if  I  can  bring  even  a  faint 
fleeting  smile  to  a  careworn  visage  occasionally, 
I  feel  that  I  have  done  something  worth  while. 
I  would  rather  cheer  one  sad  heart  for  a  min- 
ute than  make  a  whole  army  weep  for  a  week. 
I  would  rather  write  a  good  paragraph  than  a 
cheque — which  wouldn't  be  any  good  anyway." 

You  will  find  "The  Khan's  Corner"  every 
evening  in  the  Toronto  Telegram,  but  to  find 
The  Khan  you  will  have  to  go  to  Rushdale 
Farm  at  Rockton,  Ontario.  He  is  none  other 
than  Robert  Kirkland  Kernighan,  well  known 
in  literary  circles  as  the  author  of  "The  Tattle- 
ton  Papers,"  and  several  volumes  of  verse.  At 
Rushdale  Farm  he  was  born  in  1857,  and  at 
Rushdale  Farm  he  lives  today.  But  he  has  been 
away  from  the  farm  between  times.  He  has 
had  a  long  newspaper  career,  having  been  con- 
nected with  the  Hamilton  Spectator,  the  old 
Winnipeg  Sun,  and  several  Toronto  papers. 

The  Khan  is  not  a  paragrapher.  His  column 
has  continuity.  It  is  filled  every  day  with  a 
sort  of  meandering  philosophy  written  in  a 
delightfully  quaint  and  humorous  style.  Besides 
being  fascinating  reading,  it  contains  much 
good  sound  common  sense. 

April.  1919. 

C  I  \.!/>/,l.\    BOOR  l/IA 


The  "breeziness"  of  the  West  is  reflected 
in  the  "Col) nana"  of  the  three  Winnipeg  pa- 
pers. All  three  serve  political  masters,  and 
their  editorial  pages  are  therefore  apt  to  be 
sometimes  rather  saddening,  but  the  daily 
column  devoted  to  original  humor  serves  to  take 
the  curse  off  the  editorial  axe-grinding. 

The  Free  Press  Evening  Bulletin,  which  is 
the  evening  edition  of  the  Manitoba  Free  Press, 
serves  up  its  daily  menu  of  light  reading  mat- 
ter under  the  title,  "As  You  Like  It.*'  It  is 
an  apt  title,  for,  judging  by  the  popularity  of 
the  column,  it  is  indeed  pretty  much  as  the  pa- 
per's readers  like  it.  David  Bruce  MacRae,  the 
editor  of  "As  You  Like  It,*  was  born  at  Max- 
well, in  Glengarry  county,  Ontario,  and  there- 
fore there  is  reasonable  ground  for  suspicion 
that  he  is  of  Scotch  descent.  However,  he  com- 
pletely refutes  the  slander  about  the  Scotch  and 
the  sense  of  humor.  His  column  makes  light  of 
passing  events  in  a  good-natured,  mirth-provok- 
ing way  that  reveals  not  only  a  very  keen  sense 
of  humor,  but  a  very  distinct  understanding 
of  human  nature  and  its  many  frailties  as 
well.  Mr.  MacRae  is  still  a  young  man,  but 
he  has  had  extensive  newspaper  experience.  He 
served  on  the  Ottawa  Journal  and  Peterboro 
Examiner  as  reporter  and  "desk"  man  for  a 
number  of  years.  In  1911  he  went  to  the  Win- 
nipeg Free  Press  as  reporter.  His  sense  of 
humor  asserted  itself  and  very  shortly  after  his 
arrival  he  was  selected  to  give  the  ribs  of  the 
Free  Press  readers  the  paragraphic  tickle  in  "As 
You  Like  It." 

The  Winnipeg  Tribune's  "Trumps"  have 
been  famous  in  the  prairie  metropolis  for  many 
years.  "Tribune  Trumps"  were  originated  by 
Knox  Magee,  now  editor  of  the  Winnipeg  Tele- 
gram. Mr.  Magee  was  brought  from  Toronto, 
where  he  edited  "Saturday  Night,"  by  Mr.  Rich- 
ardson, publisher  of  the  Tribune,  with  the  idea 
of  putting  "pep"  into  the  paper.  Mr.  Magee 
put  the  desired  "pep"  into  it  in  a  number  of 
ways,  one  of  which  was  the  launching  of  the 
"Tribune  Trumps"  column.  That  was  quite 
a  few  years  ago,  and  the  "Trumps'*  which  Mr. 
Magee  wrote  are  now  buried  deep  in  the  Tribune 
files.  I  have  never  seen  any  of  them,  but  I 
imagine  they  did  not  lack  ginger.  This  sur- 
mise is  borne  out  by  the  word  of  some  of  the 
city's  old-timers.  (The  old-timer,  by  the  way, 
is  one  of  the  favorite  products  of  the  West.) 
They  all  agree  that  Mr.  Magee  said  just  exact- 
ly what  he  intended  to  say  in  good  plain  King's 
English.  And  they  still  quote  some  of  his 
"Trumps"  to  this  day. 

The   "Trumps  '   .-< »1 1 1 n  1  r  1   for  some  years  now 
has  been   under  the  direction  of  Mr.  .J.  J.   Mon- 

crief,  the  present  Managing  Editor  of  the  Tri- 
bune. When  you  meel  Mr.  Monerief  you  get 
a  good  firm  hand-clasp  and  a  gentle,  benign 
"Hello  brother!"  sort  of  smile.  And  the  column 
is  just  like  that.  Mr.  Monerief  does  not  write 
everything  that  finds  its  way  into  the  column — 
I  imagine  he  calls  for  volunteers  from  the  local 
staff  now  and  then — but  everything  he  writes 
stands  out  by  its  cheery  good-nature  and  bluff, 
hearty  style.  He  deals  chiefly  in  gentle  joshes 
aimed  at  prominent  citizens,  most  of  them  old- 
timers.  Sometimes  the  joke  is  a  private  one, 
intelligible  only  to  the  writer  and  to  the  man 
at  whom  it  is  aimed.  But,  even  though  you 
may  not  understand  it,  there  is  always  a  cheeri- 
ness  about  the  little  paragraph  that  puts  you  in 
a  mood  to  chuckle.  Mr.  "Monerief  is  the  direc- 
tor of  the  oratorio  society,  and  any  day  that 
the  "Trumps"  column  does  not  contain  a  quip 
about  the  choir,  or  the  choir's  activities,  you 
know  that  he  is  out  of  town. 

The  "Good  Evening"  column  is  one  of  the 
most  popular  features  of  the  Telegram.  It  first 
appeared  some  four  years  ago  and  has  "had  sev- 
eral editors  and  many  contributors.  Mr.  Robert 
Purves  is  the  present  incumbent.  Mr.  Purves  is 
the  only  man  I  know  who  is  both  publisher  and 
paragrapher.  He  came  to  Canada  from  the  Old 
Country  some  eight  years  ago  and  headed  for 
the  West.  After  various  experiences  he  landed 
in  Balcarries,  Sask..  where  he  purchased  a  paper. 
It  was  — well,  it  was  merely  a  typical  country 
weekly  when  he  bought  it.  In  a  few  weeks  the 
subscribers  began  to  sit  up  and  take  notice. 
In  a  few  months  he  had  stamped  his  personality 
upon  it  and  made  it  talked  about — and  read. 
Then,  when  it  became  successful  financially, 
Mr.  Purves  felt  the  call  of  the  bright  lights,  and 
the  movies  of  a  big  city.  He  left  the  weekly  in 
charge  of  a  partner  and  went  to  Winnipeg,  join- 
ing the  Telegram  staff.  The  personality  which 
he  put  into  the  country  weekly  now  shines  in 
the  "Good  Evening'  column  and  makes  it  a 
part  of  Winnipeg's  favorite  literature. 

A  particular  feature  of  the  "Good  Evening" 
column  is  "The  Grouch."  This  fictitious  mis- 
anthrope complains  daily  about  some  real  or 
supposed  public  grievance.  Through  him,  Mr. 
Purves  hits  off  local  conditions  and  events,  and 
throws  a  searchlight  of  satire  on  the  unneces- 
sary ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to.  In  spite  of  his 
disgruntled  disposition,  The  Grouch  is  one  of 
the  most  popular  and  most  often  quoted  person- 
ages in  Winnipeg. 



April,  1919. 

Up  to  a  few  months  ago  the  morning  edition 
of  the  Free  Press  ran  a  column  which  had  a 
big  following  of  readers,  particularly  among 
the  city's  "intellectuals."  It  was  called  "Heli- 
ograms,"  and  its  eponymous  conductor  was  Mr. 
W  J  Healy,  now  editor  of  the  Grain  Growers' 
Guide  In  his  column  Mr.  Healy  aimed  at  a 
rather  more  literary  style  than  is  to  be  found 
in  the  average  newspaper  feature  and,  as  a  re- 
sult probably  shot  over  the  heads  of  a  good 
"many  readers.  The  column  contained  much  fine 
wit  and  some  good  verse,  however,  and  will  be 
missed  by  a  great  many  of  the  paper's  subscrib- 
ers. In  undertaking  to  guide  the  gram  grow- 
ers Mr.  Healy  has  not  altogether  put  aside  his 
sense  of  humor.  He  has  done  what  might  well 
be  considered  the  impossible— introduced  a  vein 
of  humor  into  the  Grain  Growers'  Guide.  A 
page  of  that  publication  is  now  devoted  to  Mr. 
Healy 's  version  of  "Pepys'  Diary,"  a  feature 
of  the  former  "Heliogram"  column  in  which 
Winnipeg  events  are  dealt  with  as  they  might 
have  appeared  to  the  famous  diarrst. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  of  Canadian  par- 
agraphed is  to  be  found  in  Saskatoon,  Sask., 
dealing  out  light-hearted  and  inconsequential 
remarks  every  day  through  the  "Starbeams" 
columns  of  the  Star.  He  is  Harris  Turner. 
Everybody  in  Saskatoon  knows  him;  everybody 
likes  him;  nearly  everybody  reads  his  column. 
Mr.  Turner  is  a  native  of  Saskatoon  and  began 
his  newspaper  career  on  the  old  Phoenix  of  that 
city.  After  several  years  as  a  reporter  on  the 
Phoenix  he  went  to  the  Star.  When  Mr.  W. 
Scott  Darling,  the  originator  of  the  "Star- 
beams"  column,  left  the  paper  to  become  pub- 
licity man  for  a  big  department  store,  Mr.  Tur- 
ner took  over  the  column.  That  was  about  five 
years  ago.  When  the  Kaiser  turned  the  fawcet 
and  allowed  the  stream  of  frightfulness  sud- 
denly to  ooze  through  Belgium  Mr.  Turner  gave 
up  the  business  of  joking  to  adopt  the  more 
serious  business  of  helping  to  stop  th«  German 
rush.  He  went  overseas  with  a  western  bat- 
talion and  was  among  those  conspicuously 
present  in  several  of  the  biggest  of  the  war's 
early. battles.  At  Ypres  he  was  severely  wound- 
ed, and  when  he  was  finally  discharged  from  the 
hospital  he  knew  that  he  was  doomed  to  dark- 
ness for  the  remainder  of  his  life.  The  loss  of 
his  sight  had  not  the  slightest  effect  upon  hia 
disposition.  Cheery  and  smiling  as  of  old,  he 
returned  to  Saskatoon  and  again  took  up  the 
editorship  of  "Starbeams." 

Mr.  Turner's  column  overflows  with  mirth. 
It  takes  many  a  rap  at  many  a  man,  but  always 

in  a  sunny,  smiling  way.  It  is  never  cynical 
and  never  bitter.  It  is  pure,  good-natured  fun. 
And  it  is  a  reflection  of  the  man  who  writes 

Out  at  the  Pacific  coast  they  seem  to  take  life 
too  seriously  for  the  funny  man  to  flourish. 
None  of  the  papers  runs  a  column  of  original 
humor,  that  phase  of  newspaper  work  in  Van- 
couver and  Victoria  being  attended  to  by  the 
scissors  method.  There  are  several  departments 
of  light  editorial  comment,  however,  notably 
"The  World's  Window,"  in  the  Vancouver 
World,  and  "Street  Corners"  in  the  Vancou- 
ver Province.  The  latter  is  a  column  dealing 
chiefly  with  local  affairs,  sometimes  seriously, 
sometimes  in  satirical  vein,  but  always  interest- 
ingly. It  is  presided  over  by  Mr.  Bernard  Mc- 
Evoy,  one  of  the  best  known  of  Vancouver's 
newspaper  men. 

From  the  historical  point  of  view  one  of  the 
most  interesting  of  newspaper  columns  is  prob- 
ably the  Montreal  Herald's  "Sieve."  It  has 
not  been  notable  for  its  sittings  during  the  past 
few  years — some  one  may  have  knocked  a  hole 
in  it — but  years  ago  it  was  one  of  the  most 
famous  newspaper  features  in  the  east. 

"Through  the  Herald's  Sieve"  first  dawned 
upon  the  readers  of  the  Herald  about  1896.  It 
was  begun  by  one  Joseph  Dillabough,  and  the 
strain  was  too  much  for  him  as  he  lasted  two 
weeks.  Murray  Williams  heard  the  clarion  call 
for  help,  got  out  his  trusty  scissors  and  glue  pot, 
and  lasted  ten  years.  The  Sieve,  although  fea- 
tured by  the  Herald  with  a  double  column 
heading  on  the  front  page,  failed  to  attract 
any  attention  until  the  elections  of  the  year 
1896,  when  Sir  Wilfrid  Laurier  downed  Sir 
Charles  Tupper.  Day  after  day  during  the 
campaign,  every  paragraph  in  the  Sieve  was 
devoted  to  politics,  and  one  of  the  features 
of  the  column  was  a  daily  parody  on  Sir  Charles 
Tupper 's  speeches.  Sir  Charles  was  great  on 
claims  in  those  days,  claims  of  what  he  had 
achieved  and  what  he  would  do  to  Laurier. 
The  Sieve  said  that  he,  Tupper,  had  told  the 
people  of  the  Maritime  Provinces  that  he  was 
the  man  who  had  originally  fixed  things  so 
that  the  Atlantic  Ocean  would  touch  at  Hali- 

In  the  early  days,  of  the  Sieve  the  Canadian 
newspapers  were  strong  on  serious  matter,  and 
for  a  time  the  Sieve  was  the  only  out-standing 
humorous  column  in  the  country.  Certainly  for 
a  time  it  kept  the  none-too-prosperous  Herald 
on  the  map.  All  the  matter  in  the  Sieve  was 
not  original.  Its  maker  never  denied  that  the 
glue  pot  and  scissors  were  among  his  most  valu- 

April,  1919. 



able  assets.  Hi-  claimed  that,  us  he  was  Finan- 
cial Editor,  Commercial  Editor  and  Baseball 
Editor  of  the  Herald,  the  time  at  his  disposal 
to  knock  the  Sieve  together  was  somewhat  limit- 

-"I  used  to  lift  a  good  deal  of  stuff  from 
the  Chicago  News,"  said  Mr.  Williams  the  other 
day,  "and  one  day  somebody  on  one  of  the 
other  papers  handed  me  a  l.r>-ineh  shell  right  in 
the  eye.  The  association  of  humorous  writers 
was  holding  its  annual  convention  somewhere 
or  other  and,  picking  up  an  opposition  paper,  I 
read  a  paragraph  that  ran  like  this:  'Tf  the 
author  of  the  Herald's  Sieve  goes  to  the  con- 
vention, he  will  have  to  get  in  on  a  Chicago 
•News  ticket.'  After  that  the  glue  pot  and 
scissors  went  out  of  the  window." 

Mr.  Williams  commenced  his  newspaper 
career  at  the  bottom  of  the  journalistic  ladder. 
His  energy  and  ability  soon  forced  recognition, 
and  he  gradually  rose  until  he  was  the  finan- 
cial editor.  There  his  farsightedness  and  his 
unerring  judgment  made  him  a  factor  in  the 
market,  and  he  was  snapped  up  by  the  Montreal 
Star,  where  he  remained  for  several  years,  until 
he  joined  the  broker  fraternity  in  the  firm  of 
O'Brien  and  Williams. 

There  are  various  ways  of  turning  out  a 
column,   including   the   scissors  and  paste   me 

thod   which   has  I n  adopted  by  the  majority 

of  papers  in  Canada,  There  is  one  method 
which  is  not  generally  known,  and  I  wish  to  cite 
it  here  for  the  benefit  of  any  weary  paragraph- 
ers  who  may  chance  to  read  this. 

Mr.  Marcel  Bernard  is  the  inventor  of  this 
method.  He  once  edited  a  column  of  paragraphs 
for  Le  Nationaliste  in  the  days  of  long  ago — 
long  before  Henri  Bourassa's  Nationaliste  was 
thought  of.  Mr.  Bernard  explained  this  easy 
system  of  columning  to  me  the  other  day. 

' '  I  used  to  invite  a  bunch  of  my  friends  up 
to  my  rooms  the  evening  before  the  column 
was  due,"  he  said.  "Then  I  started  a  discus- 
sion on  some  interesting  topic  and  every  man 
was  supposed  to  contribute  a  few  bright  re- 
marks upon  the  subject.  All  I  had  to  do  was 
to  sit  back  and  pot  down  anything  that  seemed 
good  enough  for  the  column.  I  generally  had 
a  couple  of  dozen  of  beer,  and  the  thing  was  a 
complete  success.  We  had  an  enjoyable  little 
gathering — and  I  had  my  column." 

It  sounds  like  a  good  idea,  but  there  is  one 
thing  in  the  way  of  its  present  application. 

Could  sufficiently  bright  remarks  be  secured 
by  serving  two-per-cent  ? 

A  Canadian  Spring  Song 


WHAT  do  I  miss  in  this  English  spring, 
This  tenderest,  loveliest  time, 
When  just  to  live's  a  miracle, 
A  song  in  sweetest  rhyme? 
Gone  is  the  biting  winter's  grey 
Swept  away  in  a  night; 
Radiantly,  softly  spring  creeps  forth 
Pale  and  green  and  bright. 

What  do  I  miss  though  the  crocus  bloom 

And  daffodils  golden  shine, 

While  budding  leaves  on  lacy  boughs 

Seek  the  blue  sky  divine; 

The  copper  beech  gleams  dusky  red, 

The  grass  is  emerald  foam? — 

The  sound  of  the  waters  flowing  free 

Down  a  hundred  hills  of  home. 

Murmuring,  trickling,  heavenly  sweet, 
The  hidden   streamlets   run ; 
Or  dashing  down  a  hill-side  brown 
Their  waters  mock  the  sun. 

The  great  still  pools  hold  in  their  depths 
The  spring  blue  of  the  sky, 
And  gurgling,  bubbling,  sparkling  gay, 
Fresh  streamlets  hurry  by. 

What  do  I  miss?    To  walk  through  the  trees, 

On  mountain  slopes,  and  hear 

Mid  fresh  damp  smell  of  earth  and  buds 

The  waters  singing  clear; 

Or  catch  their  sound  when  twilight  soft 

The  woodland  spaces  fills, 

That  low  ecstatic  melody 

Of  countless  running  rills. 

No  sweet-voiced  thrush,  nor  trilling  lark 
Comes  ushering  in  our  spring; 
But  God  gave  us  a  music  too, 
A  wondrous,  joyous  thing; 
And  when  the  winter  vanishes 
Spring's  never  spring  to  me, 
Unless  I  hear  down  all  the  hills 
The  waters  tumbling  free. 



April,  1919. 

Reading  Aloud  in  the  Family 


MORE  than  a  generation  ago  the  family 
circle  was  a  recognized  factor  in  social 
life.  Publishers  and  entertainers 
bowed  to  its  mandates.  Later,  ready 
money,  cheap  amusements,  and  the  growth 
of  special  clubs  and  so- 
cieties, threatened  it.  It 
is  a  happy  sign,  to-day, 
to  see  young  and  old 
drawing  together  again 
within  its  enclosure ;  to 
see  art,  music,  sports, 
rare  evenings  at  the 
theatre  enjoyed  by  fam- 
ily groups  without  osten- 
tation or  undue  indulg- 
ence. Often  all  that  is 
asked  is  but  "the  hya- 
cinth that  feeds  the  soul. 
Of  all  entertainment 
which  old  and  young 
may  enjoy  together, 
reading  aloud  is  easily 
first.  It  is  cheap  and 
satisfying  and  much  may 
be  gained  from  it. 

Those  parents  who  feel 
that  the  young  people  in 
their  care  are  drifting, 
that  the  ideals  they  had 
always  meant  the  grow- 
ing son  and  daughter  to 
hold  dear  have  not  been 
so  cherished,  will  do  well 
to  copy  the  habits  of  fifty 
years  ago,  when  a  good 
book  was  a  treasure  to  be 
enjoyed  and  discussed 
for  many  a  day  by  the 
family  who  possessed 
it,  and  then  exchanged 
with  eager  friends. 

Let  us  read  aloud  with 
the  children  whatever  we 
value  and  feel  will  inter- 
est them,  but  never  what 
offends  our  literary  con- 
science. However  harm- 
less it  may  be  considered, 
cheap,  exciting,  easily 
forgotten  fiction,  wheth- 
er written  for  young  or 
old,  defeats  the  purpose  of  family  reading. 

We  may  bring  out  the  old  books  that  were 
once  our  delight.  When  the  child  of  twelve 
or  so  once  knows  Friar  Tuck  and  Robin  Hood, 
Richard  Lionheart  and  Saladin,  though  we 
may  tire  of  the  old  romances,  he  will  read  on 
and  devour  them.  Tom  Canty  and  the  little 
Prince,  Tom  Sawyer  and  faithful  Huck, 
Don  Quixote,  Tom  Brown,  and  the  man  who 
denied  his  country  and  became  a  prisoner  on 
the  seas,  will  be  his  friends  as  well  as  ours.  The 


T   midnight   when   all   the   skeptics   and 

grown-up    (oiks    were    safely    in    bed, 

there  was  a  faint  rustling  heard  down 

in   the   library.      No   human   ear   would   have 

heard  It,  had  there  been  one  there  to  listen; 

only   fairy    ears    could    catch   the   sounds. 

The  little  fairies  of  book-land  had  not 
been  able  to  do  any  work  for  a  long  time 
past;  In  fact,  if  the  terrible  truth  must  be 
known  they  had  been  imprisoned  for  months 
in  a  dingy  prison,  the  library  book-case. 
When  night  came  as  they  had  not  done  any 
work  they  were  very  restless  and  could  not 
sleep,  so  they  spent  the  time  talking  of 
days  gone  by. 

"Anderson's  Fairy  Tales"  draw  in  a  deep 
breath,  that  made  every  leaf  in  its  body 
strain  and  shiver.  Then  he  turned  to  his 
neighbor,  "Robinson  Crusoe,"  and  said:  "Did 
you  see  how  Bobbie  and  Ethel  looked  long- 
ingly at  us  to-night,  after  their  dinner?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  other;  "I  heard  them 
planning  to  ask  their  mother  to  read  to 
them  to-night  before  they  went  to  bed;  but 
she  said  that  she  was  too  tired." 

"I  saw  something  shining  roll  down  Bob- 
bie's cheeks  afterwards,"  said  "Anderson's 
Fairy'   Tales." 

"Do  you  remember,"  went  on  the  other, 
"how  in  the  olden  days  we  used  to  be  select- 
ed turn  about  every  night  for  the  hour  be- 
tween dinner  and  the  children's  bed-hour? 
Then  Bobbie's  grandmother  would  gather 
the  children  round  her  and  read  aloud  to 
them,  while  they  sat  in  breathless  silence 
listening  to  all  our  wonderful  adventures; 
and  we  never  could  determine  which  was 
the   favorite." 

"Yes,"  said  "Anderson's  Fairy  Tales,"  "if 
Bobbie  and  Ethel  had  someone  to  read  to 
them  in  the  evening  they  would  sit  quietly 
and  listen,  instead  of  quarreling  and  teasing 
that  helpless  little  kitten  of  theirs.  But 
what  is  the  good  of  us  sitting  here  planning 
these  things  when  for  months  we  have 
been  so  sadly  neglected  in  company  with  our 

Ruby    M.    Bruneau. 

copy  of  "Lorna  Doone"  once  read  aloud  will  be 
re-read  many  times,  and  David  Copperfield, 
Oliver  Twist  and  Little  Nell  will  live  forever. 
We  once  listened  to  "Snow-bound"  and 
"Evangeline"  with  delight,  and  so  will  he.  The 
"Jungle  Books"  and 
"Uncle  Remus"  will 
mean  far  more  if  we 
read  with  him.  English 
History,  or  rather  its 
most  dramatic  events, 
will  be  permanently 
photographed  on  the  chil- 
dren's  retentive  minds, 
once  they  have  read  with 
us  that  little  "History 
of  England",  prepared 
by  Rudyard  Kipling  and 
Professor  Fletcher,  es- 
pecially if  "Rewards  and 
Fairies"  has  been  added 
for  good  measure.  Fran- 
cis Parkman  and  Dr. 
Drummond,  Ralph  Con- 
nor, Sir  Gilbert  Parker 
and  Norman  Duncan 
have  many  a  message  for 
young  Canada. 

Soon  the  children  will 
bring  into  the  circle  that 
which  appeals  to  them.  It 
is  safe  to  say  that  their 
understanding  and  good 
taste  will  amaze  us. 

Not  only  imaginative 
literature  will  claim  their 
attention.  They  will  be 
brimful  of  admiration  for 
the  heroic  figures  of 
their  time.  They  will  ex- 
plore the  work  of  nat- 
uralists with  zeal.  Long 
after  fairy  stories  have 
been  left  behind,  they 
will  rapturously  follow 
the  miracles  of  men  of 

Schools  teach  literary 
values,    but    the   differ- 
ence between  a  work  of 
literature  in  the  school- 
room and  the  same  book 
read  and  loved  by  the  whole  family  is  as  the 
difference   between   calisthenics    and    a    good 
game  of  ball. 

A  boy  of  ten  once  memorized  the  Gettys- 
burg Address  for  his  own  satisfaction  after 
hearing  "The  Perfect  Tribute."  A  child  who 
had  not  learned  to  read,  repeated  from  mem- 
ory, pages  of  the  "Christmas  Carol."  Had 
such  things  been  required  of  them  as  school 
tasks  how  vigorous  would  have  been  their  just 
resentment!  Nina  Pearce. 

April.  1919. 



Play- Writing  in  Canada 


IN  discussing  Play-writing  in  Canada,  one 
is  tempted  to  remark  that  the  subject 
can  be  disposed  of  simply  and  swiftly — 
there  is  no  playwriting  in  Canada.  But  this 
would  be  a  cheap  and  obvious  thing  to  say; 
moreover  it  would  be  unfair.  And  it  would 
be  too  close  a  critical  reflection  on  our  in- 
dividual selves.  The  machine  can  only  func- 
tion when  each  part  acts  in  co-operative  ac- 

Because  there  does  not  already  exist  a 
powerful  growing  movement  in  Canadian 
dramaturgy  is  no  reason  that  such  a  thing 
cannot  exist.  We  must  not  discourage  our- 
selves (or  other  drama-producing  countries) 
by  admitting  that  since  native  drama,  to  all 
intents  and  purposes,  non  est,  such  a  deplor- 
able condition  must  perpetually  prevail.  Lit- 
erary and  actable  plays  will  be  written  in 
Canada  when  there  is  a  demand  for  them; 
not  before. 

Music  and  painting,  poetry  and  general 
literature,  all  occupy  places  of  definite  social 
permanence  and  artistic  importance  here. 
They  are  recognized  as  necessary  vital  fac- 
tors in  the  country's  development.  As  such, 
these  branches  of  expression  are  receiving 
earnest  attention,  expert  and  otherwise,  from 
men  and  women  who  really  have  the  national 
welfare  at  heart.  There  are  Canadian  com- 
posers and  interpreters,  Canadian  painters 
and  sculptors,  Canadian  poets  and  Canadian 
authors.  Where  are  the  Canadian  play- 

By  "Canadian  playwrights"  I  don't  mean 
persons  of  Canadian  descent,  who,  migrating 
to  New  York  or  London,  have  written  popu- 
lar successes.  Any  competent  literary  work- 
man can  do  this,  irrespective  of  nationality. 
The  result  is  simply  a  commercial  product, 
not  in  the  least  fashion  typical  of  the  author's 
own  country.  I  mean  persons  of  Canadian 
descent,  or  adoption,  who  have  written  plays 
the  subject-matter  of  which  deals  with  some 
intrinsic  part  of  Canadian  life,  past  or  pres- 
ent ;  and  whose  plays  are  directly  artistic 
representations  of  Canadian  life,  or  interpre- 
tations of  Canadian  temperament. 

I  am  the  first  one  to  admit  that  this  is  a 
rough  and  ready  way  of  arriving  at  a  work- 
ing definition.  But,  for  the  nonce,  it  can 

In  discussing  some  points  regarding  plays 
in  general  and  Canada  in  particular  with  an 
eminent  Montreal  merchant.  I  heard  him  give 
vent  to  this:  that  the  boundary-line  between 
Canada  and  the  United  States  is.  for  all  ar- 
tistic purposes,  a  thing  of  fancy;  it  doesn't 
exist.     All  American  art  appeals  to  Canadian 

people,  ipso  facto,  and  there's  an  end  on't. 
Pressed,  tl minenl   merchanl  admitted  thai 

Toronto  has  produced  some  native  musicians 
to  whom  musical  America  paid  instant  hom- 
age; admitted,  too,  that  certain  Canadian 
painters  were  more  highly  regarded  in  Bos- 
ton than  certain  nameless  American  artists; 
and  finally,  conceded,  but  without  enthusiasm. 
that  Canada  was  a  young  country  and  politi- 
cal comparisons  were  in  bail  taste. 

The  man  was  speaking  relatively,  of  course, 
but  the  unfortunate  part  of  it  is  this:  his 
opinions  are  shared  by  more  Canadians  than 
I  would  care  to  attempt  to  estimate.  His  at- 
titude is  excusable.  He  doesn't  know  any 
better.  But  that  is  no  reason  why  others 
should  accept  his  conclusions  as  final  and 

As  a  matter  of  accuracy,  the  boundary-line 
between  Canadian  art  and  American  art  is 
very  clear  and  very  well  defined.  But  it  is 
not  as  inelastic  as  (for  instanca)  the  line 
drawn  sharply  between  New  York  art  and 
Chicago  art.  There  are  boundaries  all  over 
the  place.     That's  the  trouble. 

Playwrights  and  dramatists  do  exist  in 
Canada,  to  my  knowledge,  because  I  have 
personally  met  all  of  them — the  whole  three. 
There  may  be  others  lurking  in  the  fastnesses 
of  Granby.  or  cunningly  aloof  in  the  social 
whirl  of  North  Bay.  disguised  as  citizens.  If 
this  writing  will  bring  them  out  into  the  open, 
it  will  have  served  its  purpose. 

In  a  fairly  close  (and  eager)  examination 
of  the  work  of  these  three  Canadian  play- 
wrights. I  failed  to  find  any  trace  of  the 
spirit  which,  to  my  mind,  should  inform  such 
work — the  spirit  I  have  sought  to  define 
above;  national  interpretation  in  terms  of  in- 
dividual expression  through  drama.  Their 
plays  dealt  with  (a)  obsolete  and  unpractical 
morality;  (b)  Wall  Street  machinations;  and 
(c)  a  touching  effort  to  dramatize  the  Monroe 
Doctrine.  In  the  plays  of  (a)  the  locales  were 
variously  London.  Paris,  Xew  York,  and 
Lisbon ;  the  characters,  as  can  readily  be 
imagined,  ran  the  racial  gamut ;  and  the  result 
was  pathetically  nondescript.  In  the  plays  of 
(b)  the  scenes  alternated  between  Chicago,  New 
York.  Pittsburg  and  Cuba :  the  characters  were 
exclusively  American.  (Imagine  an  American 
writing  a  play  about  Canadians!)  In  the  plays 
of  (c)  the  action  transpired  in  San  Francisco 
and  Xew  York,  to  and  fro  for  five  acts;  the 
characters  were  British,  American,  German 
and  one  Irishman. 

These  three  dramatic  plumbers  are  well- 
known  and  enjoy  pleasant  reputations.      They 



April,  1919. 

may  or  may  not  be  clever  dramatists;  that  is 
beside  the  point,  and,  with  a  sense  of  happy 
relief,  I  leave  such  decisions  to  others.  The 
point  is,  that  in  a  total  of  some  twenty  plays, 
the  product  of  these  writers,  all  of  them  Can- 
adians, appears  not  one  play  that  can  be  ac- 
curately and  reasonably  described  as  a  Can- 
adian play. 

There  is  an  obvious  line  of  demarcation  be- 
tween the  dramatist  and  the  historian.  It  is 
necessary  to  recall  this  fact  (I  apologise)  be- 
cause there  are  several  Canadians  who  have 
written  some  very  interesting  historical  chron- 
icles ;  but,  in  the  compositions  of  this  character 
that  I  have  been  enabled  to  glance  at,  'there 
has  been  a  sorry  absence  of  dramatic  tech- 
nique. So  that,  for  the  purposes  of  present 
discussion,  we  may  consider  that  we  have  two 
groups  of  Canadian  playwrights:  the  people 
who  are  versed  in  Canadian  history  and  un- 
skilled in  dramatic  construction,  and  the  peo- 
ple who  are  expert  playwrights  while  being 
ignorant  of  Canadian  history.  The  class  to 
which  Canadian  Letters  must  look  for  the 
provision  and  development  of  the  true  Can- 
adian drama  will  have  to  be  composed  of  the 
blended  best  of  the  other  classes. 

In  justice  to  the  two  classes  let  it  be  urged 
that  their  unsatisfying  production  has  been 
induced  from  within  rather  than  from  with- 
out. They  have  not  put  forth  a  Canadian 
play,  because  they  had  no  motive  for  doing 
so.  There  is  no  Canadian  theatre,  in  the 
sense  that  there  is  an  Irish  theatre  and  a  Rus- 
sian theatre  and  a  Swedish  theatre.  Our 
playwrights  can  hardly  be  blamed  for  unwill- 
ingness to  write  under  such  disheartening  con- 
ditions. Practically  speaking,  there  is  no  de- 
mand for  Canadian  plays,  accordingly  there 
is  no  supply.  Yet  this  will  not  always  be  so. 
In  its  early  days  the  Irish  theatre  indicated 
a  similar  barrenness  and  apathy;  but  it  was 
only  the  prelude  to  bigger  themes  to  follow. 
The  Irish  playwrights  have  built  their  drama 
out  of  Ireland  and  the  Irish ;  and  in  the  pro- 
cess have  indicated  with  remarkable  success 
the  possibilities  that  lie  in  the  creation  of 
native  plays. 

Canada  teems  with  workable  material  for 
a1  hundred  good  plays;  there  are  great  figures 
of  the  past;  there  is  the  fascinating  epoch 
when  Champlain  and  Beauchasse  and  Pont- 
grave  held  the  stage;  there  is  the  lyrical  story 
of  Jeanne  Mance ;  there  is  the  magnificent 
figure  of  the  Indian — who  will  be  the  first 
to  tell  in  terms  of  drama  his  romantic  his- 
tory? Longfellow  has  given  us  a  hint  in 
"Hiawatha,"    and    it    seems    curious    that    no 

Canadian  has  had  the  enterprise  to  write  the 
tragedy  of  the  Indian  for  the  stage. 

In  drawing  attention  to  the  wealth  of  sub- 
ject-matter to  be  found  in  the  Annals,  I  do  not 
wish  to  be  classed  with  those  who  hold  that 
native  plays  must  inevitably  be  based  upon 
historical  events.  There  are  great  clashes 
and  conflicts  in  our  own  day,  which,  in  due 
course,  will  find  their  way  into  dramatic 
form.  But  objectivity  is  necessary.  I  think 
we  have  sufficient  detachment  to  write  artis- 
tically and  sanely  about  the  happenings  of 
yesterday;  but  the  great  war  is  too  near  to 
us.  Its  splendors  and  pathos  concern  us  pre- 
sently as  men  and  women,  not  as  dramatists. 
Still,  it  is  the  hope  of  many  that,  with  the 
passing  of  time,  a  play  will  come  out  of  Can- 
ada that  will  make  the  world  of  letters  mar- 

It  is  encouraging  to  note  the  increasing  in- 
terest shown  in  the  drama  of  other  countries 
by  leading  Canadian  art  and  literary  societies, 
especially  in  Montreal,  Toronto,  "Winnipeg 
and  Vancouver.  Papers  are  read,  lectures 
are  given,  discussions  held,  and  the  conse- 
quence is  a  lively  sincere  effort  to  bring  the 
drama  into  line  with  the  sister  arts.  Mem- 
bers of  these  societies  know  more  about  the 
modern  drama  to-day  than  they  did  a  decade 
ago;  and  they  appear  to  be  putting  their 
knowledge  to  practical  use.  In  this  there  is 
not  merely  unit  development ;  there  is  that 
necessary  vital  impetus  which  the  drama  must 
have  if  it  is  ever  to  occupy  its  proper  place 
here.  Men  and  women  (particularly  the 
women)  are  discovering  that  there  is  room 
in  the  home  for  a  shelf  of  plays;  and  room  on 
the  platform  for  a  speaker  on  the  drama.  And, 
in  this  connection,  may  it  be  mildly  suggested 
that  it  is  not  wholly  necessary  to  depend  on 
New  York  and  Boston  for  advice  in  the  con- 
structional development  of  the  drama  in 
Canada.  Occasional  expert  help  we  must 
have.  But  let  it  be  complementary  to  our  * 
own   work. 

It  is  one  thing  to  discuss  plays  and  play- 
writing  and  another  thing  to  write  plays  and 
stage  them.  The  formation  of  Stage  Socie- 
ties in  the  chief  cities  of  the  Dominion  (there 
is  already  one  in  Montreal)  would  serve  as  a 
useful  and  practical  extension  of  the  work 
being  done  amongst  the  purely  literary  so- 
cieties. A  co-operation  between  the  two 
branches  would  work  wonders,  provided 
there  was  a  ready  agreement  that  all  those 
cnncerned  would  work  toward  the  common 
objective — our  own  plays  in  our  own  thea- 

April,  1919. 




Wild  Youth  and  Another" 

SI K  GILBERT  I'AKKKK  still  possesses 
in  abundant  measure,  the  dexterity  of 
the  accomplished  professional  story-tell- 
er. The  two  tales  in  his  latest  volume,  "Wild 
Youth  and  Another"  (Copp,  Clark  Co.,  Toron- 
to, $1.50),  arc  entirely  devoid  of  any  special 
source  of  interest  except  the  admirable  skill  of 
their  telling.  "Wild  Youth"  (the  "rather 
puzzling  title  of  the  book  merely  indicates  that 
its  contents  consist  of  one  tale  entitled  "Wild 
Youth"  and  another  tale  called  something  else) 
is  a  sketch  of  a  young  girl  married  against  her 
will  to  a  hideous  and  brutal  old  reprobate  with 
prophetic  whiskers  who  owns  a  Saskatchewan 
fa  mi ;  the  action  is  precipitated  by  the  usual 
handsome  and  courageous  young  man,  and   the 

ih>  tin  is-  ill'  our  younger  Canadian  novelists,  sim 
ply  because  Sir  Gilbert    knows  how  to  handle 
the   situations   in    which    he   exhibits   them,   be- 
cause he  always  has  something  definite  for  them 

to  do,  because  he  knows  what  the  reader  will 
"see"  and  what  he  will  not  see  in  brief,  be- 
cause he  is  an  accomplished  story-teller.  Note 
how  "Wild  Youth"  is  opened.  One  paragraph 
sketching  one  characteristic  of  the  town  of  As- 
katoon  (and  incidentally  hinting  at  many 
others) — its  alertness  and  interest  in  everything 
that  comes  into  it.  And  then,  instantly,  tin- 
train  draws  in  and  a  shiver  passes  through  the 
town  when  "the  prophet-bearded,  huge,  swarthy- 
Eaced  Joel  Mazarine,  with  a  beautiful  young 
girl    behind    him"    steps    out.      And    forthwith 


reprobate  dies  with  the  usual  speed  in  order  to 
prevent  any  unusual  impropriety.  "Jordan  is 
a  Hard  Road"  is  the  tale  of  a  train-robber  who 
settles  down  to  an  honest  but  pseudonymous  life 
in  order  to  be  near  his  daughter,  who  is  in  the 
usual  state  of  misinformation  concerning  her 
parentage ;  he  is  compelled  by  the  usual  adverse 
circumstances  to  resume  train-robbing  in  order 
to  ensure  his  daughter's  future,  and  he  also  is 
prevented  by  death  from  being  present  at  the 
happy  ending  and  embarrassing  the  loving  pair 
(or  at  any  rate  the  reader)  with  the  fear  of  de- 
tection. People  never  die  so  conveniently  in 
real  life  as  in  a  Gilbert  Parker  tale. 

Nor  are  any  of  the  characters  in  these  sketchy 
little  tales  a  bit  more  life-like  or  impressive 
than  the  average  character  of  pleasant  out-door 
fiction.  They  are  figures  done  up  iu  the  trap- 
pings of  convention :  but  they  move  with  far 
more  ease   and   effect   in  those  trappings  than 

the  situation  between  these  two  ill-assorted  peo- 
ple is  sketched  briefly  and  vividly,  not  in  the 
author's  own  person  (Sir  Gilbert  knows  tin- 
value  of  keeping  himself  out  of  such  pictures), 
but  through  the  mental  comments  of  Askatoon's 
young  doctor,  its  leading  intellectual  citizen. 
A  compliment  from  one  of  the  Askatoon  citi- 
zens, an  acquaintance  of  Mazarine's,  to  Mrs. 
Mazarine,  and  Mazarine's  jealousy  is  in  evi- 
dence— the  hideous  jealousy  of  the  old  man  pos- 
sessing something  which"  he  feels  every  other  man 
covets,  and  might  claim  with  better  right  than 
himself.  And  so,  in  less  than  four  pages,  the 
whole  foundation  of  the  story  is  sketched  in, 
and  the  interest  of  the  reader  is  nailed  to  the 
mast,  not  to  come  down  till  all  is  over.  Would 
that  our  present  generation  of  Canadian  novel- 
ists would  study  this  art.  would  cultivate  this 
flair  for  the  telling  act,  the  significant  move- 



April,  1919. 

Books  About  the  Forest 


THE  forest  is  closely  associated  with  the 
pulp  and  paper  industry,  especially  in 
Canada.  The  output  of  these  mills  is 
simply  enormous,  as  will  be  seen  from 
the  fact  that  the  exports  of  pulp,  paper,  and 
unmanufactured  pulpwood  during  the  year  to- 
tal more  than  $100,000,000.  Besides  this,  large 
and  increasing  quantities  are  used  in  the  Do- 

Notwithstanding  the  importance  of  the  pa- 
per industry  in  America  —  Canada  and  the 
United  States  produce  nearly  two  million  tons 
of  newsprint  paper  alone — the  literature  of 
the  industry  from  authors  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic  is  very  meagre.  Most  of  our  books 
on  pulp  and  paper  manufacture  are  from  Eng- 
land and  Germany,  and  naturally  set  forth  the 
practice  and  viewpoint  of  the  European.  The 
reason  for  this  is  largely  the  attention  to  re- 
search and  technical  detail  that  has  been  given 
in  the  laboratories  and  mills  on  the  other  side. 
Manufacturers  on  this  side  have  relied  too 
much  on  the  wealth  of  our  natural  resources 
and  on  the  distance  from  competing  manufac- 
turing centres  to  give  proper  attention  to  such 
matters  as  research  and  scientific  control. 
There  were,  of  course,  exceptions  and  now, 
happily,  we  are  entering  an  era  when  a  care- 
ful study  of  processes  is  being  carried  on  in 
many  mills,  and  with  this  movement  there  is 
also  growing  up  a  corps  of  men  who  can  write 
in  an  authoritative  and  up-to-date  manner  from 
the  American  (in  its  larger  sense)  point  of 
view  . 

The  forester  and  the  timber  user  are  better 
provided  with  the  literature  of  their  business. 
All  the  way  from  the  woods  to  house  construc- 
tion and  furniture  factory,  is  a  string  of  books 
that  set  forth  experience  and  knowledge  on  a 
subject  relating  to  the  tree  and  its  uses.  The 
biologist  and  the  forester  are  powerful  allies 
of  the  lumberman  and  paper  maker,  and 
manufacturers  are  coming  to  realize  their  im- 
portance. Present  studies  in  the  forests  of 
Quebec  are  likely  to  result  in  some  important 
articles  on  fundamental  facts  regarding  our 
forest  resources,  especially  on  the  rate  of  re- 
production on  cut-over  areas. 

Organizations  like  the  Canadian  Forestry 
Association  and  the  Woodlands  Section  and 
the  Technical  Section  of  the  Canadian  Pulp 
and  Paper  Association,  through  the  papers 
and  discussions  at  meetings,  are  beginning  to 
draw  out  some  of  our  latent  talent,  as  well 
as  serving  to  keep  older  writers  in  working 
trim.  The  Forestry  Branch  of  the  Department 
of  the  Interior  has  issued  a  number  of  bulle- 
tins, both  as  compilations  made  at  the  office 
in   Ottawa   and   as   a  result   of  investigations 

carried  on  at  the  Forest  Products  Laboratories 
in  Montreal.  The  Commission  of  Conservation 
is  also  doing  valuable  field  work  in  co-opera- 
tion with  some  industrial  concerns.  Among 
the  publications  of  the  Department  of  the  In- 
terior mention  might  be  made  of  the  follow- 
ing Forestry  Branch  Bulletins  : — 

"Douglas  Fir  Fibre,  With  Special  Reference 
to  Length,"  by  H.  N.  Lee  and  E.  M.  Smith. 
(reprinted  from  the  Forestry  Quarterly,  and 
later  published  in  the  Pulp  and  Paper  Maga- 
zine), is  a  fine  piece  of  work  in  microscopic 
measurements,  illustrated  by  charts  and  dia- 

No.  59,  "Canadian  Woods  for  Structural 
Timbers,"  prepared  by  H.  N.  Lee  under  the 
direction  of  Dr.  J.  S.  Bates,  at  the  Forest  Pro- 
ducts Laboratories,  is  a  comprehensive  re- 
view of  the  adaptability  of  various  Canadian 
species  to  the  important  uses  of  shipbuilding, 
railway  trestles,  dock  construction,  factory 
and  other  buildings.  A  number  of  interesting 
pictures  are  shown,  among  which  is  a  Douglas 
fir  timber  46  by  46  inches  by  70  feet,  for  use 
in  Montreal  harbor  work.  The  principal  char- 
acteristics and  properties  of  several  species  are 
given,  and  from  this  information  is  deduced 
the  fitness  of  the  wood  for  certain  purposes. 
The  bulletin  will  serve  to  correct  the  erroneous 
impression  that  Canadian  timber  is  inferior  to 
that  brought  in  from  the  United  States. 

No.  60.  "Canadian  Douglas  Fir,  Its  Mechani- 
cal and  Physical  Properties,"  prepared  by  R. 
W.  Stearns  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  J.  S. 
Bates.  This  bulletin  gives  a  more  exhaustive 
treatment  of  the  properties  of  this  particular 
wood,  with  details  of  testing  methods,  etc.  A 
bibliography  of  other  works  on  the  subject  is 

No.  62A,  "Forest  Products  of  Canada,  1916 
— Lumber,  Lath  and  Shingles."  Tables  and 
explanatory  paragraphs  give  the  consumption 
of  these  products  by  provinces  and  species,  ac- 
cording to  quantitv  and  value  for  1915  and 

No.  62B,  "Forest  Products  of  Canada,  1916 
— Pulpwood."  This  bulletin  is  similar  to  the 
preceding  one.  In  addition  to  the  tables  there 
are  several  maps  showing  the  location  of  mills 
using  pulpwood. 

No.  63,  "Wood-using  Industries  of  Quebec," 
compiled  by  R.  G.  Lewis  and  J.  A.  Doucet. 
This  bulletin  is  issued  in  both  French  and 
English.  It  is  based  on  data  from  864  firms, 
and  one  is  surprised  at  the  number  and  variety 
of  the  articles  produced..  The  value  of  the 
wood  used  is  more  than  $12,000,000.  About  15 
per  cent,  is  bought  outside  of  the  province,  and 
of  this,     36  per  cent,  comes  from  the    United 

April,  1919. 

C  i.\  l/'/.l.v    BOOKMAN 


States.  Tables  show  the  principal  uses  of  17 
kinds  of  wood,  ami  this  information  should  be 
of  value  in   promoting  the  utilization   of  the 

large  amounts  of  hardwoods  left  in  the  forest 
when  coniferous  trees  are  brought  out  from 
mixed   stands. 

No.  64,  "Forest  Fires  in  Canada.  1914,  1915, 
1016."  Tables  and  charts  show  areas  burned 
over,  monetary  losses  and  the  relation  of  rain- 
fall and  temperature  to  the  extent  of  fires.  In- 
formation is  also  given  as  to  forest  areas,  or- 
ganization  for  fire  protection,  etc. 

"Report  of  the  Director  of  Forestry  for  the 
year  1017"  (Part  VT.  of  the  Annual  Report, 
Department  of  the  Interior,  1917).  In  sub- 
mitting his  report,  B.  II.  Campbell  mentions 
that  sixty-five  members  of  the  staffs  have  en- 
listed, and  nine  have  given  their  lives.  This 
depletion  of  forces  has  prevented  extention  of 
the  work.  The  disastrous  fire  in  Ontario  in 
1916  was  largely  due  to  lack  of  control  in  al- 
lowing settlers  to  start  fires.  Few  people 
realize  the  dependence  of  Canadian  industries 
on  the  forests,  yet  "ignorance,  lack  of  defin- 
ite information,  opinions  rather  than  know- 
ledge of  facts  have  characterized,  and  still  to 
a  large  extent  continue  to  characterize,  the 
methods  of  handling  the  forest  resources  of 
the  Dominion  to  their  detriment  and  loss." 
Mr.  Campbell  tells  what  his  department  is  do- 
in?  to  improve  forest  conditions  and  the  know- 
ledge thereof,  to  utilize  this  resource  most  ef- 
ficiently and  to  insure  its  perpetuation.  There 
are  some  fine  illustrations. 

"Pulpwood  Consumption  and  Wood  Pulp 
Production,  1916."  by  Franklin  H.  Smith  and 
R.  K.  Helphenstine,  Jr.,  has  been  published  by 
the  Forest  Service  of  the  U.  S.  Department  of 
Agriculture  in  co-operation  with  the  News- 
print Manufacturers'  Association.  Such  a 
bulletin  has  not  been  issued  since  1911,  al- 
though Canada  publishes  this  information  each 
year.  Charts,  diagrams,  tables  and  descrip- 
tions cover  the  subject  thoroughly.  In  1916, 
230  mills  used  51/;  million  cords  of  pulpwood, 
producing  3%  million  tons  of  pulp. 

Mr.  R.  H.  Campbell,  Director  of  the  Forestry 
Branch,  recently  suffered  a  fractured  skull 
while  investigating  forestry  conditions  in 
Northern  Manitoba.  Mr.  Campbell  gave  an 
interesting  address  at  the  meeting  of  the  Tech- 
nical Section  of  the  Canadian  Pulp  and  Paper 
Association  last  winter  on  the  outlook  for  the 
future  supply  of  pulpwood  in  Canada.  He 
enumerated  the  present  estimated  amounts  of 
the  various  kinds  of  trees  in  the  different  pro- 
vinces, and  stated  the  annual  consumption  and 
the  approximate  rate  of  reproduction  as  near- 
ly as  possible  as  could  be  estimated.  This  ad- 
dress was  printed  in  the  Pulp  and  Paper 
Magazine  for  March  21,  1918.  Canada's  for- 
ests are  not  inexhaustible,  as  some  people  seem 
to  think. 

Of  interest  to  every  Canadian  is  Bulletin  61, 
of  the  Forestry  Branch,  entitled  "Native  Trees 
of  Canada."  In  this  valuable  work  Mr.  Camp- 
bell has  collected  information  as  to  the  locali- 

ties in  which  each  species  grows,  and  the  in 

dividual    characteristics   of   each    kind    of    tree. 

Mr.  Campbell  goes  on  to  give  the  uses  for  the 
different  kinds  of  wood,  and  even  mentions 
some  new  possibilities  in  the  way  of  utilizing 

this  material.  Trees  are  referred  to  by  their 
common  names  as  well  as  hy  their  biological 
appendages,  Many  illustrations  show  individ- 
ual   trees,    the    shape    of    leases,    seed    pods,    etc  , 

while  in  tabulated  form  one  can  quickly  re- 
view and  compare  the  principal  features  by 
which  a  tree  may  be  distinguished.  An  in- 
stance of  the  usefulness  of  the  book  occurred 
while  the  writer  was  attending  a  meeting  of 
the  Technical  Section  in  Toronto  last  June. 
Two  of  the  visitors  from  New  York  were  dis- 
cussing chestnut  blight  and  one  remarked  that 
it  was  too  bad  to  have  all  the  beautiful  horse 
chestnuts  threatened.  The  other  precipitated 
an  argument  by  expressing  the  idea  that  the 
horse  chestnut  is  not  a  real  chestnut.  A  refer- 
ence to  Mr.  Campbell's  book  settled  the  dis- 
pute. New  Yorker  number  two  was  right,  and 
furthermore,  the  horse  chestnut  is  not  a  tree 
native  to  Canada. 

A  booklet  that  was  popular  during  the  per- 
iod of  the  shortage  of  coal  is  the  monograph 
put  out  by  the  Commission  of  Conservation  on 
"Wood  as  Fuel."  It  is  written  by  Mr.  Clyde 
Leavitt,  Chief  Forester  to  the  Commission,  and 
deals  with  the  subject  in  a  popular  yet  com- 
prehensive manner.  Mr.  Leavitt  not  only 
shows  the  necessity  for  making  the  greatest 
possible  use  of  wood  for  heating  purposes,  giv- 
ing comparative  values  for  weight,  bulk  and 
heating  power,  but  also  points  out  some  of  the 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  obtaining  and  trans- 
porting this  material. 

Canada  is  fairly  well  provided  with  periodi- 
cal literature  on  Forestry  and  kindred  sub- 
jects, with  the  Canadian  Forestry  Journal, 
Canada  Lumberman,  Western  Lumberman, 
and  occasional  articles  in  the  Pulp  and  Paper 
Magazine  that  apply  to  this  industry.  From 
our  neighbors  we  get  American  Forestry,  a 
very  superior  publication,  the  Journal  of  For- 
estry and  a  number  of  lumber  trade  journals. 
When  the  Lord  said  to  St.  John  "Write," 
the  summons  could  hardly  have  been  more  ur- 
gent than  that  which  comes  to  the  technical 
man  in  the  pulp  and  paper  industry.  There 
has  probably  never  been  a  time  when  the  de- 
mand has  been  greater  for  books,  articles  and 
special  information  relating  to  the  manufac- 
ture of  these  materials.  This  is  partly  the 
cause  and  partly  the  result  of  the  awakened 
appreciation  of  the  value  of  research  referred 
to  at  the  beginning  of  this  article.  Another 
call  for  books  comes  from  the  manufacturers 
who  realize  the  need  of  better  educated  and 
more  intelligent  workmen,  and  from  workmen 
who  appreciate  the  greater  chances  for  ad- 
vancement for  men  with  trained  intelligence 
as  well  as  skillful  hands.  How  to  meet  this 
demand  for  literature  is  a  difficult  problem, 
yet  it  is  being  attacked  vigorously  by  the  pulp 
and  paper  industry. 



April,  1919- 

The  Technical  Section  of  the  Canadian  Pulp 
and  Paper  Association  and  the  Technical  As- 
sociation of  the  Pulp  and  Paper  Industry 
(U.S.),  have  each  a  committee  on  Education. 
More  than  a  year  ago  the  Canadian  committee 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  a  suitable  text 
hook  is  the  foundation  for  the  efficient  instruc- 
tion of  mill  workers  and  school  boys  who  plan 
to  enter  the  industry.  After  a  careful  investi- 
gation of  the  situation  it  was  decided  that  both 
countries  should  act  together  in  this  matter, 
as  it  is  not  so  much  a  problem  for  two  coun- 
tries as  for  one  industry.  There  is  really  no 
dividing  line  among  the  workmen  nor  in  many 
cases  even  among  the  mill  managements.  The 
fundamental  need  is  a  standard  text  book  of 
Pulp  and  Paper  Mill  Practice  for  the  whole 

A  joint  meeting  of  the  two  committees  was 
consequently  held  in  Buffalo  on  the  16th  of 
September,  and  was  attended  by  every  one  of 
the  two  committees  exeept  one  American,  who 
was  on  important  war  work.  The  discussion 
disclosed  two  main  divisions  of  the  problem, 
the  preparation  of  the  text,  and  the  manner 
in  which  instruction  and  direction  in  the  use 
of  the  books  can  best  be  effected.  An  execu- 
tive committee  of  five,  two  Canadians  and 
three  Americans,  was  formed  to  carry  out  the 
plans  roughly  outlined  by  the  meeting.  Mr. 
George  Carruthers,  of  Toronto,  is  chairman, 
and  Mr.  R.  S.  Kellogg,  of  New  York  is  secre- 
tary. It  is  expected  that  the  industry  will 
encourage  the  work  with  generous  financial 

This  committee  will  first  select  an  Editor-in- 
Chief,  who  may  also  act  as  educational  direc- 
tor. With '  the  advice  and  assistance  of  the 
executive  committee  and  the  bodies  they  rep- 
resent, he  will  arrange  with  experts  in  each 
branch  and  department  of  the  manufacture 
of  pulp  and  paper  for  the  writing  of  the  vari- 
ous chapters  that  will  make  up  the  complete 
text.  The  fullest  advantage  will  be  taken  of 
material  that  has  already  been  published.  It 
is  considered  probable  that  the  work  will  be 
published  in  the  form  of  pamphlets.  This  will 
facilitate  the  development  of  classes  in  exten- 
sion and  night  schools,  and  the  organization 
of  correspondence  courses  in  the  science  and 
technique  of  pulp  and  paper  manufacture. 
There  are  already  in  existence  a  number  of 
suitable  texts  on  elementary  but  fundamental 
subjects,  which  it  might  be  possible  to  incor- 
porate in  order  to  build  up  a  course  represent- 
ing a  practically  complete  technical  education 
in  this  line.  These  would  include  business 
English,  mathematics,  chemistry,  mechanical 
drawing,  mechanics  and  elements  of  electric- 
ity. The  provision  for,  or  organization  of,  cor- 
respondence instruction  will  doubtless  develop 
as  the  preparation  of  the  material  progresses. 

The  main  education  committees  are  also 
working  with  local  school  authorities  in  improv- 
ing facilities  for  continuation  classes  and  in  con- 
necting the  school  work  with  the  pulp  and  pa- 
per industry  in  communities  where  that  activ- 

ity predominates.  Some  success  has  already 
been  attained  in  organizing  classes  in  the  ele- 
mentary subjects  that  are  familiar  to  most 
school  programmes.  The  difficulty  arises  when 
the  student  wants  to  keep  on  going  and  there 
is  no  chart  by  which  to  guide  his  further  pro- 
gress. The  number  of  such  cases  that  have  al- 
ready arisen  makes  evident  the  need  of  just 
such  a  set  of  texts  as  that  for  the  preparation 
of  which  the  technical  men  have  laid  plans.  It 
is  a  big  undertaking  and  will  require  consider- 
able time  to  complete,  but  it  will  be  of  incal- 
culable value  to  the  industry,  and  to  the  men 
engaged  in  it. 

As  usual  most  of  the  recent  books  relating 
to  paper  have  come  from  England.  The  Eng- 
lishmen are  strong  on  research  in  the  field  of 
cellulose  chemistry  and  the  processes  involved 
in  the  manufacture  of  paper.  England  is  prac- 
tically devoid  of  forests  from  wtiich  wood  for 
pulp  is  obtained.  Consequently  we  find  little 
in  British  publications  on  the  manufacture  of 
pulp.  The  paper  mills  of  Great  Britain  get 
their  pulp  from  Scandinavia,  Germany  (for- 
merly), Newfoundland,  Canada,  and  the 
United  States.  The  industry  lost  a  tireless 
worker  and  noted  investigator  when  Mr.  Clay- 
ton Beadle  died  a  few  months  ago.  He  had 
contributed  largely  to  the  knowledge  of  cel- 
lulose and  its  products,  and  the  manufacture 
of  paper  by  his  fine  research  work  and  fre- 
quent articles  in  the  periodicals  of  the  paper 
trade.  Mr.  Beadle  was  a  co-author  with  C.  F. 
Cross  and  E.  J.  Bevan  in  the  preparation  of 
the  most  comprehensive  work  in  English  on 
the  chemistry  and  properties  of  cellulose,  the 
fundamental  material  used  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  paper.  This  book  is  entitled  "Cellu- 
lose," and  was  reprinted  as  a  new  (third)  edi- 
tion in  1916  by  Longmans,  Green  &  Co.,  Lon- 
don. It  is  an  excellent  book  for  the  researcher 
in  this  field,  and  for  the  student  or  other  per- 
son interested  in  the  properties  of  this  impor- 
tant substance.  For  the  most  part  the  subject 
is  treated  from  a  purely  scientific  standpoint, 
though  a  number  of  important  industrial  ap- 
plications are  introduced.  These  have  particu- 
larly to  do  with  compounds  of  cellulose,  such 
as  viscose,  the  nitrates,  etc.  F'or  a  scientific 
book  it  is  written  in  a  rather  disconnected 
manner,  but  contains  much  valuable  informa- 

Two  of  the  writers  just  mentioned,  Charles 
Frederick  Cross  and  Edward  John  Bevan,  are 
perhaps  the  best  known  of  a  really  wonderful 
group  of  investigators  in  this  field.  Their  work 
goes  back  to  1890  or  so,  and  one  who  has  col- 
laborated in  a  little  research  work  must  ad- 
mire the  way  these  two  have  labored  together 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century  or  more,  surely  a 
most  delightful  companionship.  Cross  and 
Bevan 's  "Paper-Making,"  has  come  to  be  con- 
sidered the  standard  English  textbook  on  this 
subject.  The  fourth  edition  was  issued  in 
1916  by  E.  &  F.  N.  Spon,  Limited,  London 
(Spon   &   Chamberlain,  New  York.)      In   this 

April,  1919. 



edition  they  had  the  collaboration  of  J.  K 
Brings,  a  well  known  practical  paper  maker. 
The  reviewer  had  the  opportunity  of  using 
the  third  edition  in  his  classes  in  paper-mak- 
ing, and  found  it  excellent.  It  served  not  only 
as  a  satisfactory  guide  for  lectures  and  recita- 
tions, but  for  laboratory  work  in  paper  manu- 
facture and  testing:,  and  was  used  by  the  stu- 
dents in  their  laboratory  course  in  the  Chemis- 
try of  Cellulose.  In  connection  with  this  course 
"Cellulose"  was  also  found  very  helpful. 
"Paper-Making"  contains  nothing  on  the  his- 
tory of  the  art,  but  this  is  easily  supplied  from 
other  sources.  The  book  is  divided  into  three 
main  parts,  the  chemistry  and  characteristics 
of  cellulose  and  the  more  important  fibres,  the 
processes  and  machines  for  making  paper, 
and  the  testing  of  paper  and  analysis  of  the 
materials  used  in  its  manufacture. 

Among  the  same  group  of  investigators  and 
authors,  we  also  find  Sindall,  Bacon  and  Ste- 
vens. Sindall  and  Bacon  are  partners  in  con- 
sulting work  as  well  as  in  a  number  of  liter- 
ary efforts.  Sindall  has  two  books  from  his 
pen  alone.  "The  Manufacture  of  Paper,"  is  a 
popular  description  of  the  way  paper  is  made. 
It  gives  some  interesting  facts  about  the  vari- 
ous kinds  of  paper,  and  tells  what  they  are 
used  for.  His  other  book  on  the  subject  is 
"Technology  of  Papermaking, "  which,  as  its 
name  implies,  is  a  more  technical  treatment. 
It  contains  a  particularly  good  section  on  pa- 
per testing,  and  would  be  a  valuable  help  to 
the  advanced  student,  or  for  the  practical  pa- 
permaker  who  is  interested  in  the  scientific 
reasons  for  mill  processes.  The  principal  joint 
work  of  Sindall  and  Bacon  is  their  "Testing  of 
Wood  Pulp,"  which  has  enjoyed  a  wide  dis- 
tribution. It  serves  as  a  guide  both  to  the 
seller  of  pulp  and  to  the  buyer.  The  test  most 
frequently  applied  is  the  determination  of 
moisture,  and  this  is  a  very  important  one,  be- 
cause on  the  result  depends  the  satisfaction  of 
the  buyer  that  he  is  getting  all  the  actual  pa- 
permaking material  he  pays  for,  as  well  as  the 
knowledge  on  the  part  of  the  seller  that  he  is 
getting  a  proper  return  for  his  goods.  This 
question  has  led  to  many  serious  disputes  be- 
cause of  the  ease  with  which  inaccuracies  may 
occur.  In  spite  of  the  importance  of  the  test 
for  moisture,  and  although  Sindall  and  Bacon 
give  a  number  of  methods  for  making  this  de- 
termination, there  is  as  yet  no  universally  ac- 
cepted procedure.  The  nearest  to  it  is  the  me- 
thod agreed  on  by  the  Pulp  Importers'  Asso- 
ciation, New  York,  and  provisionally  adopted 
by  the  Technical  Association  of  the  Pulp  and 
Paper  Industry.  It  was  published  in  Paper 
(New  York),  and  in  the  Pulp  and  Paper 
Magazine  of  Canada  last  fall. 

Stevens  has  written  a  very  successful  book 
entitled  "Paper  Mill  Chemistry."  It  is  just 
now  out  of  print,  but  a  new  edition  is  in  the 
press.  This  book  goes  more  into  the  details 
of  the  chemical  properties  and  methods  of  an- 

alysis of  materials  used  in  paper  making  than 

the  other  hooks  mentioned.  Ft  also  contains 
methods  for  the  several  routine  analyses  used 
in  the  control  of  processes,  especially  in  pulp 
mills.  The  need  of  such  a  book  is  evident  when 
one  considers  the  number  and  variety  of  ma- 
terials involved  in  the  manufacturing  of  a 
product  that  has  come  to  be  a  very  common 
part  of  our  daily  life.  Among  these  we  might 
mention  coal,  lime,  sulphur,  soda  ash,  bleach- 
ing powder,  alum,  acids,  oils,  glue,  clay,  and 
numerous  dyestuffs  and  many  other  chemical 
products,  not  to  say  anything  of  the  many 
tests  necessary  in  the  proper  control  of  pro- 
cesses in  the  mill. 

There  is  probably  no  industry  whose  history 
is  more  closely  connected  with  the  progress 
of  the  race  than  is  the  story  of  papermaking. 
Yet  no  single  comprehensive  book  on  the  sub- 
ject has  been  written.  Interesting  chapters, 
however,  appear  in  Miss  E.  M.  Smith's  "Writ- 
ing and  Writing  Materials,"  and  in  Davis's 
"Manufacture  of  Paper."  The  Butler  Paper 
Company  of  Chicago  recently  published  a  very 
entertaining  little  book  entitled  "The  Story 
of  Papermaking,"  which  is  mostly  historical. 
But  little  is  given  of  the  period  of  the  early 
European  paper  mills.  This  era  is  covered 
by  J.  N.  Stephenson,  who  included  transla- 
tions from  German  sources  in  an  article,  "Four 
Thousand  Years  of  Papermaking,"  contribut- 
ed to  Paper,  New  York,  a  few  years  ago.  He 
gathered  together  the  most  important  and  in- 
teresting facts  and  stories  of  the  industry 
from  the  Stone  Age  to  the  invention  in  France 
by  Robert,  in  1699,  of  the  first  machine  for 
making  a  continuous  sheet  of  paper.  This 
event  marks  the  beginning  of  modern  paper- 

A  few  years  before  the  invention  of  Rob- 
ert's machine,  which  was  developed  by  Fourd- 
rinier,  and  is  now  known  by  that  name,  the 
first  paper  mill  was  built  in  America.  It  was 
established  in  Pennsylvania  in  1690,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Wissahickon,  to  supply  paper  for 
a  publisher  in  Philadelphia.  Those  interested 
in  the  enterprise  were  William  Bradford,  the 
moving  spirit,  Robert  Turner,  Thomas  Tresse, 
and  William  Rittenhouse,  an  enterprising  Ger- 
man papermaker.  At  this  time  there  were  very 
few  mills  in  England,  where  the  industry  had 
progressed  with  great  difficulty  and  uncer- 
tainty. On  the  other  hand,  the  small  mill  near 
Philadelphia  was  but  the  beginning  of  an  in- 
dustry in  America  that  has  never  lagged  since 
that  day,  but  has  steadily  grown  until  now  it 
is  one  of  the  largest  and  most  important  in 
Canada  as  well  as  in  the  United  States.  Ly- 
man Horace  Weeks  relates  the  story  of  the 
American  mills  delightfully  in  his  "History  of 
Paper  Manufacturing  in  the  United  States."  It 
is  a  book  of  more  than  three  hundred  pages, 
and  is  well  supplied  with  interesting  illustra- 
tions. It  is  published  by  The  Lockwood  Trade 
Journal  Company,  New  York. 



April,  1919. 

Nothing  is  said  by  Mr.  Weeks  of  the  industry 
in  Canada.  According  to  A.  L.  Dawe,  in  a 
pamphlet  entitled  "Some  Facts  About  a  Great 
Industry."  published  by  the  Canadian  Pulp 
and  Paper  Association,  the  first  mill  in  Can- 
ada was  started  at  St.  Andrews,  Quebec,  in 
1803.  Now,  scarcely  more  than  a  century 
later,  there  are  more  than  one  hundred  pulp 
and   paper  mills,   in  fact,   almost  exactly   one 

mill  for  each  year  since  the  first  paper  mill 
was  built.  For  forty  or  fifty  years  the  paper 
was  all  made  by  hand,  now  there  is  not  a  mill 
in  the  country  using  this  process,  while  Can- 
ada has  some  of  the  largest  and  fastest  ma- 
chines in  the  world.  These  monsters  make  a 
sheet  almost  17  feet  wide,  and  turn  it  out  at  the 
rate  of  more  than  six  hundred  feet  per 

The  New  Partnership  in  Industry 

By  O.  D.  SKELTON 

King,  W.  L.  Mackenzie: — "Industry:  A  Study  in  the 

Prim-iples  Underlying  Industrial  Reconstruction." 
Thomas   Allen.  Toronto,  $3. 

MR.  KING'S  book  is  easily  the  most  im- 
portant contribution  yet  made  by  any 
Canadian  writer  to  the  question  of  the 
organization  of  industry  and  particularly  of  the 
relations  of  capital  and  labor.  In  addition  to 
the  wide  experience  of  industrial  conditions 
gained  as  student  and  administrator  in  this  field 
for  many  years  in  Canada,  Mr.  King  has  drawn 
upon  the  researches  made  in  the  past  four  years 
on  behalf  of  the  Rockefeller  Foundation.  Much 
of  the  ground  is  covered  in  other  works  on  in- 
dustrial reconstruction  which  have  appeared  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  in  the  past  year  or  so, 
but  the  present  work  differs  in  its  more  com- 
prehensive sweep  and  in  its  unique  combina- 
tion of  well-worked-out  theory  and  concrete  il- 
lustrations from  actual  conditions. 

The  first  five  chapters  are  devoted  to  an  an- 
alysis of  the  present  economic  system,  and  of  its 
growth  out  of  simpler  forms.  The  defects  of 
inequality,  insecurity  and  lack  of  understand- 
ing and  common  aims  are  made  clear,  but  the 
writer  does  not  find  it  necessary  to  join  in  the 
indiscriminate  condemnation  of  the  present  sys- 
tem which  characterizes  so  much  half-baked  and 
hysterical  social  criticism  today.  He  empha- 
sizes the  improvements  made  in  the  conditions 
of  work  and  reward  due  to  "the  production  of 
wealth  on  the  scale  made  possible  by  the  capi- 
talist organization  of  industry,"  insists  that  "if 
the  cash  nexus  has  broken  the  bond  of  personal 
security,  it  has  broken  also  the  yoke  of  personal 
subordination,"  and  shows  that  "if  capital  has 
been  a  disintegrating  factor,  breaking  up  fami- 
lies and  scattering  individuals  as  atoms  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth,  more  than  any  other  agency, 
it  has  also  been  reponsible  for  bringing  to- 
gether individuals  in  groups  and  communities, 
and  making  possible  an  ever-increasing  measure 
of  associated  effort." 

Ah  interesting  parallel  is  drawn  between  in- 
dustrial and  international  relations.  The  differ- 
ent parties  to  industry,  like  the  nations  of  Eu- 
rope before  the  war,  live  in  suspicion  and  fear, 
fail  to  understand  the  point  of  view  of  the  op- 

posing side,  deal  in  dangerous  ultimatums,  are 
held  back  by  pride  from  making  concessions, 
and.  after  smouldering  opposition  has  broken 
out  in  open  warfare,  inherit  legacies  of  hatred 
and  misunderstanding.  More  novel,  and  prob- 
ably the  most  original  theoretical  contribution 
made  in  the  book,  is  the  parallel  between  the  rise 
of  representative  government  in  politics  and  its 
rise  in  industry.  From  Magna  Charta  to  John 
Hampden,  principles  and  incidents  in  the 
struggle  for  civil  and  political  liberty  are  drawn 
upon  to  illuminate  the  path  to  be  followed  now 
(hat  the  world  is  trying  to  work  out  democracy 
in  industry. 

In  the  concluding  chapters  Mr.  King  develops 
the  principles  and  methods  of  the  new  law  and 
the  new  partnership  that  must  be  achieved  if 
society  is  not  to  perish  in  anarchy.  In  attaining 
industrial  peace  compulsory  investigation  and 
publicity  are  emphasized  more  than  compulsory 
arbitration,  as  might  be  expected  from  the  fram- 
er  of  the  Canadian  Industrial  Disputes  Inves- 
tigation Act.  As  means  of  securing  the  increas- 
ed productivity  essential  if  the  demands  of  the 
future  are  to  be  met,  scientific  management, 
profit-sharing  and  labor  co-partnership,  and 
the  several  methods  of  industrial  remuneration, 
are  considered  in  a  well-balanced  and  informed 
review.  The  changes,  particularly  in  the  way  of 
social  insurance,  necessary  to  conform  to  the 
national  minimum  of  health,  are  then  discussed. 
Chief  emphasis  is,  however,  given  to  the  ques- 
tion of  the  organia^tion  of  industry.  Various 
vociferous  solutions,  state  socialism,  syndicalism 
and  guild  socialism,  are  in  turn  weighed  and 
found  wanting.  .  Partnership,  the  recognition 
of  the  right  of  all  the  parties  concerned  in  pro- 
duction to  a  voice  in  its  management  and  direc- 
tion, is  the  solution  advocated.  Illustrations 
are  given  from  the  plan  of  local  representation 
worked  out  by  the  writer  for  the  Colorado  Fuel 
and  Iron  Company,  and  from  the  joint  indus- 
trial councils  on  a  national  scale  proposed  in 
the  Whitley  Reports.  An  ingenious  series  of 
charts  and  diagrams  sums  up  the  analysis  and 
the  conclusions  of  this  comprehensive  study. 
The  book  is  not  one  for  summer  hammock  read- 
ing, hut  it  will  amply  repay  the  attention  of 
every  serious  student  of  the  world's  most  uni- 
versal and  most  pressing  problem. 

April.   1919. 

CWMU  I  \     I'.OUKMAN 


The  Last  of  the  Old-Style  Booksellers 


EBBNEZBB      PICKEN,    the    last    of    the 
old-school    booksellers   in   Montreal,  or 
for  that  matter  in  Canada,  is  dead.  His 
passing  leaves  a  vacancy  that  will  never 
be  filled. 

A  visit  to  the  little  bookshop  on  Heaver  Hall 
Hill  meant  more  than  a  mere  commercial  ileal. 
.Mi-.  Picken  was  not  troubled  aboul  business 
in  the  ordinary  sense,  and  if  one  sought  a 
"best  seller"  of  meretricious  quality  he  would 
lie  courteously  referred  to  a  book-store  which 
prided  itself  on  being  up-to-the-minute.  The 
impression  conveyed  after  a  few  visits  was  that 
books  were  Mr.   Picken's  friends,   and   that    if 

— Portrait    study    by    Sidney    Carter. 

no  one  wanted  to  buy  them  he  would  have 
his  friends  with  him  a  little  longer.  There  was 
about  the  old  shop,  and  the  man  who  presided 
over  its  destiny,  an  atmosphere  of  "money 
no  object."  Not  that  the  surroundings  sug- 
gested affluence,  unless  it  were  an  affluence  of 
the  spirit.  There  was  the  undeniable  sense 
that  the  volume  which  changed  hands  afford- 
ed, or  should  afford,  the  customers  an  intel- 
lectual profit  for  which  the  financial  exchange 
was  not  commensurate.  The  City  Directory  had 
his  listed   as   '■bookseller,"  but   to   his  friends 

he    was    ill    the    truest    sense    the   old-time    book 

For  over  forty  years  Eben  Picken  held 
this  place.  His  name  was  not  displayed  on  the 
window,  and  to  those  who  visited  the  shop  it  was 
just  "Picken's."  The  window  panes  were  not 
always  free  id'  dust,  and  there  was  no  attempt 
at  "dressing"  the  window  —  featuring  the 
wares  that  were  for  sale.  On  a  slanting  slab 
was  a  little  of  everything  —  books,  pamphlets, 
periodical  magazines,  greeting  cards,  prints, 
and  an  odd  watereolor  or  two.  The  upper  panes 
were  shaded  by  sheets  of  brown  paper  to 
lower  the  light  in  the  interior  of  the  old  place. 
Up  and  down  the  hill  Commerce  and  Finance 
buzz  in  limousines  with  liveried  drivers  — 
worldly  success,  or  the  bold  front  in  face  of 
ruin.  Inside  the  shop  was  peace,  and  in 
browsing  among  the  hooks  the  outside  world 
could  be  forgotten. 

Books  on  shelves  and  in  piles,  art  maga- 
zines, and  prints  were  everywhere — the  coun- 
ter littered  with  bookish  material.  A  visit 
furnished  all  the  thrill  of  opening  a  surprise 
packet.  There  was  so  much  there  that  might 
not  be  found  elsewhere,  and  if  one  showed  sin- 
cere interest  and  some  taste  one  could  rum- 
mage without  interruption.  On  the  shelf  be- 
hind the  counter  stood  a  row  of  framed  pic- 
tures and  if  on  occasion  you  had  bought  a 
hook  devoted  to  paintings,  drawings,  or  prints. 
Mr.  Picken  might  lay  down  on  the  counter 
an  etching,  mezzotint,  or  engraving  and  volun- 
teer a  few  comments  on  its  excellence,  and 
give  biographical  data  respecting  the  artist. 
For  he  was  an  authority  on  prints  and  a  col- 
lector of  taste  and  discernment.  It  was  obvious 
that  it  was  the  older  masters  who  claimed  his 
affection — Durer  and  the  men  of  that  time, 
but  not  to  the  exclusion  of  modern  schools. 

In  literature  his  taste  was  catholic  and  sound. 
He  had  a  fondness  for  verse,  and  the  writer 
recalls  how  his  interest  in  John  Masefield  was 
kindled  when  a  copy  of  The  English  Review 
was  laid  on  the  counter  for  perusal.  That  was 
in  the  days  when  the  voice  of  that  forceful 
English  singer  could  be  heard  almost  every 
month.  That  act  created  a  taste  for  Mase- 
field. Truly  in  the  fullness  of  time,  either 
by  personal  discovery  or  on  the  word  of  a 
friend,  Masefield 's  work  would  have  been 
added  to  my  list  of  admirations,  but  Mr.  Pick- 
en introduced  me  to  him  years  ago  and  saved 
me  from  having  to  bemoan  the  fact  that  I 
found  him  so  late.  This  great  thing  can  be 
said  of  Montreal's  dead  bookman;  he  has  been 
a  gentle,  tasteful,  and  consistent  propagandist 
of  what  is  worth  while  in  letters.  A  man  of  cul- 
ture, he  has  dealt  in  books  through  love  of 
them,  and  not  of  financial  necessity. 



April,  1919. 

When  his  door  was  locked  for  the  last  time 
it  was  a  distinct  loss  to  book-lovers,  but  many 
will  carry  to  the  end  the  sense  of  peace  and 
pleasure  which  could  be  found  there.  The  re- 
lief the  old  shop  afforded  on  those  Saturday 
afternoons  in  summer  when  all  who  could  had 
made  for  the  open  spaces,  when  from  the  front 
steps  the  vista  ended  with  foliage  grey  with 
dust  and  the  silver  dome  of  St.  James  Cathe- 
dral was  seen  through  a  shimmering  film,  will 
be  remembered.  Two  doors  down  the  hill  there 
might  be  a  perspiring  tourist  reading  the 
graven  tablet:  "Here  stood  Beaver  Hall,  Built 
1800,  Burnt  1848.  Mansion  of  John  Frobisher, 
one  of  the  Founders  of  the  North-West  Com- 
pany which  made  Montreal  for  years  the  Fur 
Trading  Centre  of  America."  Inside  the  shop 
it  was  dim  and  cool.  A  band  of  mellowed  light 
rested  on  counter,  shelves,  and  floor,  and  be- 
yond to  the  little  back  office,  where  Mr.  Picken 
kept  his  accounts  and  read  his  books,  there 
was  shade.  Through  the  open  door  in  the  rear 
a  tiny  yard  flooded  with  sunlight — an  arrange- 
ment in  light  and  shade  which  would  have 
charmed  an  old  Dutch  painter. 

While  we  talked  Mr.  Picken  would  be  par- 
celling books  for  Murray  Bay,  Cacouna,  or 
Bic: — the  very  names  letting  into  the  dim  shop 
a  fleeting  glimpse  of  blue  sky,  heaving  sea, 
golden  sands  and  umber  rocks — and  to  our 
conversation  there  would  be  the  running  sing- 

song accompaniment  of  Chinamen  chatting  in 
the  laundry  next  door.  Looking  out  into  the 
sun-lit  yard  one  had  on  the  left  hand  side 
types  of  a  great  and  ancient  race,  on  the  right 
a  marble  reminder  of  a  great  Canadian  com- 
mercial venture,  and,  between  the  two,  aesthe- 
tic satisfaction  and  content. 

There  was  about  the  old  shop,  its  contents, 
and  its  owner  nothing  to  suggest  material  com- 
merce, and  last  of  all  wholesale  hardware,  but 
it  was  in  this  commodity,  with  Ferrier  and  Com- 
pany, that  Mr.  Picken  started  his  business 
career.  Forty  odd  years  ago  his  taste  for  things 
literary  and  artistic  became  so  strong  that  he 
abandoned  hardware  for  bookselling,  and  his 
shop  soon  became  a  meeting  place  for  kindred 
spirits  in  Montreal,  where  he  was  born  in  May, 

Ebenezer  Picken  knew,  with  the  intimacy 
which  comes  of  common  tastes,  practically  all 
of  the  prominent  literary  figures  of  Eastern 
Canada  in  the  last  forty  years.  He  had  many 
genial  and  enlightening  antedotes  to  narrate 
concerning  them,  and  as  he  had  himself  con- 
siderable skill  as  a  writer,  he  was  often  asked 
in  his  later  years  to  set  down  his  recollections 
in  black  and  white.  That  he  did  not  do  so 
is  perhaps  mainly  due  to  modesty,  that  virtue 
which  when  carried  to  excess  becomes  a  vice 
and  the  cause  of  much  loss  to  the  world. 

—  ■      !  ■  '—  J>    "'Hlli'i^iA^ i 

''Mi,,  %^-^mmnmimm  WGSimn  I 


Eben     Picken's     Bookshop     on     Beaver     Hall     Hill, 

Am-ii.    [919. 

CAh  \l>l  \\    BOOKM  I  \ 


William  Wilfred  Campbell 

By  W.  T.  ALLISON 

IN  the  death  of  William  Wilfred  Campbell, 
LL.D.,  F.R.S.C.,  of  Ottawa,  on  January  1. 

1918,  Canada  lost  one  of  the  greatest  of  her 
poets.  Although  far  from  being  an  old  man 
when  death  closed  his  earthly  career,  being  only 
fifty-seven  years  of  age,  he  had  a  long  literary 

life.  For  a  whole  generation  he  was  recognized 
throughout  the  Dominion  as  a  national  poet. 
From  the  date  of  the  publication  of  his  first 
book  of  verse,  "Lake 
Lyrics,"  in  1889, 
he  was  acknowledg- 
ed to  be  in  the  very 
front  rank  of  Can- 
adian singers.  His 
place  in  our  literary 
annals  will  always 
be  secure  not  only 
because  of  the  high 
merit  of  his  work, 
but  because  he  had 
the  good  fortune  to 
belong  to  w  ha  1 
might  be  called  the 
first  national  group 
of  poets  in  Canada. 
The  other  members 
of  this  group  were 
Archibald  Lamp- 
man,  Charles  G.  D. 
Roberts,  Duncan 
Campbell  Scott. 
Bliss  Carman,  and 
Frederick  George 
Scott.  All  of  these 
writers  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Lamp- 
man,  who  died  on 
February  10,  1899, 
and  in  whose  mem- 
ory Wilfred  Camp- 
bell wrote  one  of  the 
finest  of  his  elegies, 
"The  Bereavement 
of  the  Fields,"  are 
still  active  in  the 
production  of 
poetry,  and  still  serenely  wear  the  laurels  which 
they  won  thirty  years  ago.  A  younger  school 
of  writers  is  now  cultivating  the  art  of  song  in 
Canada,  but  the  names  of  the  above  mentioned 
poets  are  still  the  most  considerable  in  our  lit- 

William  Wilfred  Campbell  was  born  in  Berlin. 
Out.,  on  June  1,  1861.  He  was  the  son  of  Rev. 
Thomas  Swaniston  Campbell,  and  came  of  good 
old  Highland  stock,  belonging  to  a  cadet  branch 
of  the  House  of  Argyll,  and  numbering  among 
his  kinsmen  Thomas  Campbell,  the  poet,  and 
Henry  Fielding,  the  novelist.  Educated  at  the 
University  of  Toronto  and  in  Cambridge,  Mass., 

— From  a  paint 


Wilfred  Campbell  was  ordained  rector  as  a 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England  in  I 
and  took  charge  of  a  parish  first  in  New  Eng- 
land and  later  in  St.  Stephen,  X.l'».  In  his 
college  days  he  had  developed  his  taste  for  let- 
ters, and  during  the  first  years  of  his  ministry 
be  produced  considerable  verse.  In  1889  he 
launched  his  initial  volume  of  poetry,  his  "Lake 
Lyrics,"  which  immediately  established  his  re 

putation  as  a  Can- 
adian singer  with  a 
distinctive  note.  It 
was  mainly  on  the 
strength  of  his  ac- 
complishment i  n 
•'  Lake  Lyrics"  that 
Sir  Wilfrid  Lan- 
rier  two  years  later 
found  a  position  for 
him  in  the  Civil  Ser- 
vice at  Ottawa. 
where  he  joined  the 
Dominion  Archives 
Bureau  under  Dr. 
Doughty.  From  this 
time  onward  the 
poet  devoted  himself 
to  the  pursuit  of 
literature,  and  the 
long  list  of  publica- 
tions to  his  credit 
bears  witness  to  his 
industry.  He  be- 
came a  frequent  con- 
tributor to  such 
publications  as  the 
Atlantic  Monthly. 
Harper's,  and  the 
Century  Magazine, 
and  the  London 
spectator  and  Athe- 

During  his  dis- 
tinguished career  as 
poet,  antiquarian, 
novelist,  dramatist, 
and  government  of- 
ficial. Wilfred  Campbell  had  his  share  of  hon- 
ors. In  addition  to  wide  recognition  of  his 
poetic  powers  in  the  United  States  and  Eng- 
land, and  his  standing  as  one  of  the  foremost 
poets  of  his  native  land,  he  was  gratified  at  be- 
ing elected  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  o£  Can- 
ada in  1893.  Another  public  honor  came  his 
way  two  years  later,  when  he  was  made  a 
member  of  the  Library  Committee  in  connection 
with  the  Quebec  Tercentenary  celebration.  In 
1907  he  was  elected  a  councillor  of  the  Cana- 
dian Society  of  Historical  Landmarks. 

Although  Dr.  Campbell  was  not  spared  to  see 
the  triumph  of  the  Allies,  his  soul  was  greatly 

by  J.  W. 

L.  Forster 



April,  1919. 

moved  by  the  epic  struggle.  He  wrote  many 
stirring  lyrics,  one  of  which,  "The  Ballad  of 
Langemarck,"  will  rank  among  his  ablest  pro- 
ductions. Of  all  our  Canadian  poets,  Wilfred 
Campbell  was  the  most  ardent  imperialist.  His 
patriotic  poems,  all  of  them  breathing  the  most 
intense  love  for  the  Motherland  as  well  as  for 
Canada,  compose  at  least  half  of  his  published, 
and  more  than  half  of  his  unpublished  work. 

The  following  is  a  bibliography  of  Dr.  Camp- 
bell's poetic  writing:  "Lake  Lyrics"  (1889); 
"The  Dread  Voyage"  (1893);  "Mordred  and 
Hildebrand,"  tragedies  (1895);  "Daulac,"  a 
tragedy  (1896)  ;  "Beyond  the  Hills  of  Dream" 
(1899)';  "Collected  Poems"  (1905);  "Poetical 
Tragedies,— Mordred,  Daulac,  Morning,  Hilde- 

brand" (1908;;  "Canadian  Canticles"  (1913); 
"Sagas  of  Vaster  Britain"  (1914);  "Lange- 
marck, and  Other  War  Poems"  (1917).  Dr. 
Campbell  edited  in  1912  "The  Oxford  Book  of 
Canadian  Verse,"  the  standard  anthology  of 
Canadian  poetry. 

The  prose  works  of  Dr.  Campbell  include 
"Ian  of  the  Orcades,"  a  romance  (1906)  ;  "Can- 
ada," illustrated  by  T.  M.  Martin,  R.C.A. 
(1907),  "A  Beautiful  Rebel,"  a  novel  (1909), 
and   "The   Canadian   Lake   Region"    (1910). 

A  selected  edition  of  Dr.  Campbell's  poems, 
including  much  of  his  unpublished  verse,  edited 
by  Dr.  W.  T.  Allison  of  Winnipeg,  will  shortly 
be  published  by  The  Musson  Book  Company  of 

The  Foundation  of  Modern 
Belgian  Literature 

De  Coster,  Charles:  "The  Legend  of  the  Glorious  Ad- 
ventures of  Tyl  Ulenspiegel,"  with  twenty  wood- 
cuts by  Albert  Delstanche.  Dent,  Toronto,  $2.50. 
(McBride,   New  York). 

Turquet-Milnes,  G.:  "Some  Modern  Belgian  Writers: 
A  Critical  Study."  Dent,  Toronto,  $1  (McBride. 
New  Tork). 

MUCH  that  is  at  first  sight  unfamiliar 
and  difficult  of  comprehension  in  the 
works  of  Verhaeren,  Lemonnier  and 
others  of  the  group  treated  in  the  very 
instructive  little  volume  of  Turquet-Milnes.  be- 
comes immediately  natural  and  proper,  drops 
into  its  true  place  in  historical  perspective,  when 
we  have  read  the  flaming  tale  which  Lemonnier 
himself  called,  with  justice,  the  National  Epic 
of  Flanders.  Nor  is  it  alone  the  literature  of 
Flanders  which  is  made  comprehensible  by  this 
tremendous  work:  it  sheds  much  light  upon  the 
sources  and  nourishment  of  the  spirit  of  na- 
tional patriotism  which  has  sustained  the  Flem- 
ish people  through  centuries  of  trials  such  as 
perhaps  no  other  nation,  certainly  no  highly 
civilised  nation,  has  been  called  upon  to  en- 
dure. "Tyl  Ulenspiegel,"  which  is  now  for 
the  first  time  (and  very  beautifully)  done  into 
English  by  Geoffrey  Whitworth,  was  first  pub- 
lished, in  sixteenth-century  French  (which  its 
author  maintained  was  the  only  language  for 
the  embodiment  of  Flemish  ideas),  in  1867.  The 
difficulties  of  the  language,  and  the  fact  that 
it  was  in  a  limited  edition,  conspired  to  prevent 
it  from  obtaining  general  recognition,  and  it 
was  not  till  an  edition  in  modern  French  was 
issued  in  1893,  long  after  the  author's  death, 
that  it  began  to  be  hailed  as  a  masterpiece.  But 
its  effect  upon  the  new  generation  of  Flemish 
writers  was  immense.  It  inspired  them  with 
that  motive  of  the  passionate  ardor  of  animal 
life,  the  eager  acceptance  of  all  that  the  sun, 
the  earth,  the  processes  of  the  physical  world, 
have  to  give,  which  has  been  the  characteristic 
note  of  one-half  of  the  school  ever  since  the 
Renascence  of  Belgian  Letters.  And  no  one  in 
the  entire  school   has  made  more  lovely  poetry 

out  of  that  ardor  and  that  acceptance  than 
has  Charles  de  Coster. 

"Tyl  Ulenspiegel"  is  an  epic  romance  of  the 
sufferings  and  the  redemption  of  Flanders  un- 
der the  yoke  of  Spain.  It  deals  wholly  with 
peasant  life,  portrayed  with  the  boisterousness 
and  vivd  humor  of  Rabelais,  but  also  with  an 
idyllic  poetry  that  is  more  suggestive  of  the 
Greeks.  In  the  half-dozen  passages  in  which 
kings  and  priests  and  great  personages  are 
shown,  they  are  sharply  contrasted  with  the 
healthy  honesty  of  the  peasants,  for  they  are  all 
perverts,  criminals,  tyrants  and  butchers — as 
indeed  they  and  their  class  may  well  have  ap- 
peared to  the  wretched  Flemings  laboring  under 
the  yoke.  Never  perhaps  in  all  literature  have 
the  virtues  of  the  people,  of  the  peasantry,  the 
men  and  women  in  touch  with  the  soil,  been 
hymned  as  they  are  in  this  epic. 

The  same  reverence  for  the  energy,  the  effort, 
the  intense  animalism  of  the  Flemish  peasant 
( celebrated  long  before  in  art  by  the  great  Flem- 
ish painters)  is  to  be  found  in  most  of  the 
work  of  Verhaeren,  who  next  to  Maeterlinck  is 
the  most  important  personage  treated  in  the 
Turquet-Milnes  book.  Even  the  Greek  idyl- 
lism  turns  up  again;  "the  shepherds  of  Theo- 
critus have  come  back  to  live  in  Flanders."  Yet 
there  are  tremendous  differences  between  the 
naif  beauty  of  the  1867  epic  and  the  restless  and 
disquieting  philosophic  inquiry,  which  charac- 
terises most  of  the  present-day  Belgian  writers. 
Rodenbach,  Eekhoud,  Max  Elskamp,  Charles 
van  Lerberghe,  the  Destree  Brothers,  Courouble, 
are  all  treated  with  sympathy  and  understand- 
ing in  "Some  Modern  Belgian  Writers,"  and  if, 
like  most  handbooks,  it  is  somewhat  over-con- 
densed, the  chief  result  of  that  defect  will  be  to 
inspire  a  keen  desire  for  further  information  on 
what  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  vital  and 
important  literary  movements  in  the  world  to- 
il ay,  and  one  which  has  received  an  adventitious 
but  not  undeserved  popularity  and  interest 
from  the  sufferings  of  the  nation  which  pro- 
duced it. 

April.  L919. 

r.i.v.i/>/  i  \    hook ua.\ 


Three  Novels  by  Ibanez 


SPAIN  is  still  almost  unexplored  territory 
to  the  generality  of  novel-readers  in 
English  speaking  countries.  The  works 
of  Russian  novelists  are  to  be  found 
everywhere,  and  most  people  seem  to  know 
something  of  Tourgenieff  or  Dostoieffsky.  but 
the  Spanish  novelists,  though  a  number  of  their 
books  have  been  translated  into  English,  have 
never,  till  just,  recently,  reached  any  large 
quantity  of  English  readers.  That  Blasco 
Ibanez,  who  is  not  the  greatest  of  the  Spanish 
novelists,  is  coming  to  a  wider  popularity  is 
due  chiefly  to  the  fact  that  the  last  of  his 
books  which  has  appeared  in  English  i6  a  novel 
of  the  war. 

"The  Four  Horsemen  of  the  Apocalypse"  is, 
in  nearly  all  respects  except  the  language  in 
which  it  was  written,  a  French,  rather  than  a 
Spanish,  novel.  Not  only  is  the  greater  part  of 
the  story  placed  in  France,  but  the  thought  and 
feeling  throughout  seem  to  be  distinctly  French 
rather  than  Spanish.  This  is  particularly  no- 
ticeable in  the  somewhat  commonplace  love  af- 
fair between  Jules  Desnoyers,  the  painter,  who 
does  no  painting,  and  the  married  woman,  Mar- 
guerite Laurier,  which  is  of  a  stereotyped  pat- 
tern common  to  French  novelists. 

The  book  probably  owes  the  greater  part  of 
its  success  to  the  adventures  of  Marcel  Des- 
noyers, the  father,  during  the  battle  of  the 
Marne.  Ibanez.  whose  anti-German  sentiments 
are  clear  enough  here  and  elsewhere,  gives  a 
picture  of  the  sacking  of  Desnoyers'  chateau, 
the  shooting  of  the  mayor  and  the  cure,  and 
the  savagery  of  a  part}'  of  German  officers ;  and 
yet,  for  all  the  vividness,  he  does  not  succeed 
in  producing  the  impression  that  he  is  describ- 
ing things  which  he  has  seen  for  himself.  The 
best  and  most  actual  part  of  the  book  tells  of 
the  life  of  Marcel  Desnoyers  in  Argentina,  in 
which  country  he  had  taken  refuge,  as  a  com- 
munist, at  the  time  of  the  Franco-German  war. 
His  father-in-law,  Madarriaga,  is  perhaps  the 
most  interesting  character  in  the  book,  and  one 
is  inclined  to  wish  for  more  about  him  and  ra- 
ther less  about  the  Parisian  life  of  the  grand- 
son, Jules,  and  his  futile  friend  Argensola.  This 
friend,  Argensola,  is  the  only  true  Spaniard  in 
the  story  and  would  seem  to  have  been  brought 
in  to  show  the  indifferent  attitude  of  certain 
Spaniards  on  the  question  of  the  war,  an  atti- 
tude with  which  the  author  has  evidently  no 

A  very  different  Ibanez  appears  when  he 
writes  about  his  countrymen  in  their  own  coun- 
try. He  gives  us  not  only  characters  of  an 
unaccustomed  type,  but  descriptions  of  places 
and  of  the  life  of  the  people  which  should  be 
intensely  interesting  to  readers  outside  of  Spain. 
He  writes  of  these  things  as  one  who  loves  them, 

but,  for  all  that,  he  is  a  strong  advocate  of  radi- 
calism and  anti-clericalism,  with  a  devotion  to 
his  cause  which  in  always  evident,  and  he  gives 
in  his  stories  good  reasons  for  the  faith  which 
he  preaches. 

"Blood  and  Sand,"  or  "The  Blood  of  the 
Arena,"  as  it  is  called  in  another  English  trans- 
lation, is  a  story — almost  an  analysis— of  bull- 
fighting. It  is  a  study  of  the  vanity  and  cow- 
ardice of  a  bull-fighter,  and  popular  hero,  Gal- 
lardo,  who  after  many  triumphs  in  the  ring  is 
badly  wounded  by  a  bull  and,  on  recovering, 
finds  that  he  has  lost  his  nerve.  He  tries,  with 
little  success,  to  work  himself  back  into  the 
favor  of  his  public,  and  is  killed  on  the  horns 
of  a  bull  which  has  only  with  difficulty  been 
persuaded  to  fight  at  all.  The  man  is  for  the 
most  part  contemptible  and  serves  to  convey 
the  author's  scorn  of  bull-fights  and  of  the 
people  who  watch  and  applaud  them,  but,  with 
all  his  scorn,  Ibanez  is  evidently  Spaniard 
enough  to  have  a  very  thorough  knowledge  of 
bull-fighting.  The  deaths  of  many  bulls  and 
the  wounding  of  men  and  horses  are  described 
with  a  completeness  of  detail  which  may  be- 
wilder, and  sometimes  disgust,  readers  who  are 
not  Spanish. 

The  rather  scanty  story  holds  together  several 
excellent  pictures  of  life  and  customs  other  than 
those  of  the  bull-ring.  An  amusing,  though  ma- 
licious, description  is  given  of  the  Holy  "Week 
procession  at  Seville,  a  pagan  mixture  of  piety, 
or  superstition,  and  wild  buffoonery,  and  we 
get  some  idea  of  the  ways  and  adventures  of 
boys  when  they  are  brought  up  in  a  country 
in  which  a  bull-fighter  is  always  a  great  man. 
Two  characters  in  the  book  are  particularly  at- 
tractive. One  of  these  is  a  marquis  who  breeds 
bulls  for  the  ring,  and  is  divided  between  his 
affection  for  the  animals  and  his  pride  in  the 
glory  of  their  deaths.  The  other  is  an  old  bull- 
fighter, Nacional,  who  in  the  intervals  of  his 
work  mixes  with  radicals  and  anarchists.  As  a 
result,  while  he  continues  to  fight  bulls  for 
his  living,  though  always  with  a  certain  regard 
for  his  own  safety,  he  looks  on  bull-fighting,  in 
the  abstract,  with  disapproval  as  something  con- 
nected with  clericalism  and  reaction. 

A  more  interesting  book,  in  every  way,  than 
either  of  those  just  mentioned  is  "The  Shadow 
of  the  Cathedral."  In  this  Ibanez  gives  full 
play  to  his  love  for  his  country  and  its  history 
and,  at  the  same  time,  to  his  anti-clericalism.  The 
whole  story  passes  in  the  precincts  of  the  cathe- 
dral at  Toledo  and  most  of  it  in  the  cloister  and 
the  houses  which  open  on  to  it.  The  persons  of 
the  book  are  all  clergy,  servants  or  hangers-on 
of  the  cathedral,  some  of  them  people  whose 
families  have  been  attached  to  the  cathedral  for 
generations.     A  member  of  one  of  these  fami- 



April,  1919. 

lies,  who  has  wandered  about  the  world,  first 
as  a  Carlist  and  later  as  an  anarchist,  comes 
back,  his  body  worn  out  by  imprisonment  at 
Barcelona,  to  his  old  home,  hoping  to  find  there 
rest  and  safety  from  the  attentions  of  the  police. 
As  he  becomes  better  acquainted  with  his  new 
neighbors  he  forgets  the  caution  which  he  had 
imposed  on  himself  and  begins  to  expound  his, 
and  Ibanez',  political  views.  He  expounds  at 
considerable  length ;  there  is  page  after  page 
of  his  speeches,  until  he  becomes  as  wearisome 
as  Tchernoff,  the  crazy  Russian  anarchist  in 
the  "Four  Horsemen."  The  final  result  of 
his  preaching  is  that  his  pupils — servants  of 
the  cathedral  and  the  cobbler,  who  has  his 
house  in  right  of  his  wife,  a  member  of  one 
of  the  cloister  families — attempt  to  rob  a  statue 
of  the  Virgin,  decked  with  jewelry  for  a  festi- 
val, and  murder  their  teacher  when  he  tries  to 
prevent  them.  The  festival  procession  through 
the  streets  is  distinctly  more  decorous  than  that 
which  is  described  in  "Blood  and  Sand,"  but 
Ibanez  manages  to  get  some  comic  effect  out 
of  it. 

The  pictures  of  the  cathedral  and  its  sur- 
roundings are  very  unequal  in  quality.  At 
times  the  author  seems  inspired  by  the  beauty 
of  the  church  and  even  its  ceremonies,  at  others 
he  gives  us  pages  of  description  which  are  wor- 
thy only  of  a  guide-book.  In  spite  of  his  anti- 
clerical views,  he  is  able  to  write  with  real  en- 
thusiasm of  the  spectacular  part  of  Spanish 
Catholicism  and  of  the  history  of  the  church 
and  the  glories  of  its  ancient  bishops,  but  he 
wastes  little  or  no  sympathy  on  the  clergy  or 
the  religion  which  they  practice.  He  takes  par- 
ticular delight  in  describing  the  fights  between 
the  Archbishop  and  the  Canons  of  his  cathe- 
dral,   and   the   Archbishop's    eventual    triumph 

over  them.  The  Cardinal  Archbishop  himself 
receives  a  kinder  treatment  than  the  other  clergy 
in  the  book,  not  indeed  in  his  capacity  of  priest, 
but  as  a  very  human  old  sinner,  whose  daughter 
passes  as  his  niece.  One  of  the  best  scenes  in 
the  book  is  that  in  which  the  Cardinal,  cheered 
by  a  recent  victory  over  his  Canons,  discusses 
his  failings,  very  frankly,  with  the  old  garden- 
er's widow,  whose  playmate  he  had  been  as  a 

The  charm  of  the  book,  apart  from  the  scene 
and  the  atmosphere,  lies  in  the  characters  of 
the  people  who  live  around  the  cathedral.  There 
is  the  official  who  takes  charge  of  the  admis- 
sion of  visitors  to  the  church  and  its  treasures, 
and  does  his  best  to  mix  sanctimonious  pro- 
priety with  the  business  instincts  of  a  show- 
man. There  are  the  cobbler  whose  function  is 
to  repair  certain  giants  which  had  figured  in 
processions,  the  night  watchmen,  and  the  boy 
whose  chief  duty  seems  to  be  to  drive  dogs  out 
of  the  cathedral.  Best  of  them  all  is  the  Chapel 
Master,  a  priest  to  whom  music  means  far  more 
than  religion,  his  true  faith  being  summed  up 
in  the  statement  that  there  is  one  great  Lord 
in  the  world  and  two  lesser  lords,  Galileo  and 
Beethoven.  Ibanez  has  an  evident  affection  for 
his  old  musician,  whose  conversation  is  delight- 

The  diversity  of  ideas  and  methods  in  these 
three  books  is  remarkable ;  they  show  us  Span- 
iards of  every  kind  and  degree  with  their  good 
and  bad  qualities.  All  through  them  the  bright- 
ness of  southern  sunlight  seems  to  bring  cheer- 
fulness into  the  doings  of  people  as  poor  and 
primitive  as  any  that  are  to  be  found  in  Rus- 
sian novels.  There  are  elements  or  "orutality  and 
a  good  deal  of  superstition,  but  both  seem  cov- 
ered up  by  bright  and  gay  coloring. 

Some  Advice  for  the  Dramatic  Muse 

Professor  "William  Lyon  Phelps'  book,  "The 
Twentieth  Century  Theatre,"  is  more  correct- 
ly described  by  its  sub-title,  "Observations  on 
the  Contemporary  English  and  American 
Stage."  The  Lampson  Professor  of  English 
Literature  at  Yale  is  excellent  in  observation, 
but  he  has  not  in  this  volume  made  much  effort 
to  systematise  the  results  of  nis  note-taking. 
He  has,  however,  a  thesis,  and  a  very  promising 
one,  though  he  has  not  succumbed  to  the  temp- 
tation to  "work  it  up";  it  is  that  before  there 
can  be  anything  like  a  diffusion  of  dramatic 
art  in  America  "there  must  be  a  stock  com- 
pany in  every  city,  and  every  company  must 
have  the  right  to  produce  new  plays. ' '  This  is 
obviously  a  radical  attack  upon  the  present 
system  under  which  a  single  producer,  and  often 
a  single  star  actor  or  actress,  enjoys  the  mon- 
opoly of  giving  performances  of  an  important 
new  dramatic  work  for  year's  upon  years,  as 
Miss  Adams  (with  the  connivance  of  her  man- 
ager and  the  author)  has  in  the  case  of  "What 
Every  Woman  Knows"  and  other  Barrie  plays 

— works  of  the  first  importance  in  the  modern 
English  theatre,  yet  which  no  resident  of  the 
North  American  continent  can  see  except  the 
two  thousand  a  night,  in  the  larger  cities,  who 
can  present  themselves  at  the  theatre  where  Miss 
Adams  happens  to  be  playing;  say,  600,000  a 
year  out  of  a  population  of  one  Tiundred  mil- 
lions. Allowing  for  holidays,  houses  of  less  than 
2,000  capacity  and  "repeat"  visits  by  some  of 
the  audience,  and  under  this  system  it  takes 
two  years  for  one  per  cent  of  the  population  to 
get  the  chance  of  seeing  a  new  play. 

There  are  other  points  of  interest  and  com- 
ments of  justice  in  Professor  Phelps'  book, 
which  will  stimulate  readers  to  serious  thought 
about  the  lamentable  condition  of  ptiblic  enter- 
tainment on  this  continent.  But  we  trust  that 
the  rest  of  his  information  is  more  sound  than 
the  assertion,  apropos  of  municipal  theatres, 
that  "In  Canada,  Port  Arthur  has  had  one  for 
a  long  time."  Can  he  be  thinking  of  the  other, 
and  perhaps  in  this  respect  more  civilised,  city 
of  the  same  name?  (Macmillan,  Toronto,  $1.25.) 

April.   1!M!I. 

C  I  V.IW  I  \     i:nnh  1/  I  A 


What  Fvery  Canadian  Ought  to  Know 

By  W.  S.  WALLACE 

THE  insularity  of  England  is  as  nothing 
compared  with  the  insularity  of  America. 
If  most  of  the  inhabitants  of  North  Am- 
erica were  candid  with  themselves,  they 
would  admit  thai  their  knowledge  of  the  poli- 
ties and  history  of  modern  Europe  dates  from 
1914  or  thereafter;  and  even  to-day  many  of  us 
read  the  dispatches  from  Europe  in  the  morn- 
ing newspaper  with  a  frequent  sense  of  mysti- 
fication. Yet  we  have  learnt  that  an  incident 
in' an  obscure  town  in  the  Balkans  may  affect  us 
most  intimately  and  profoundly ;  and  doubtless 
many  of  us  have  come  to  feel  that  we  ought  to 
know  more  about  the  contemporary  history  of 
Europe  than  we  do. 

There  have  not  been  lacking  hitherto  books 
which  professed  to  give  a  view  of  European  his- 
tory in  the  nineteenth  century ;  but  most  of 
these  have  been  books  written  for  the  edifica- 
tion of  undergraduates,  and  did  not  make  easy 
reading.  The  need  for  a  book  suitable,  not 
only  for  the  undergraduate,  but  also  for  the 
general  reader,  has  now  been  supplied  by  Pro- 
fessor J.  Salwyn  Schapiro  of  the  College  of  the 
City  of  New  York.  His  "Modern  and  Con- 
temporary European  History"  (Boston:  Hough- 
ton Mifflin  Company,  1918,  pp.  xv.  804)  is 
worthy  of  hearty  recommendation.  Though 
Professor  Schapiro 's  style  does  not  everywhere 
reach  the  same  high  level,  the  book  is  for  the 
most  part  brilliantly  written.  It  presents,  more- 
over, some  revolutionary  aspects.  In  his  pre- 
face, which  is  a  sort  of  historical  confession  of 
faith,  Professor  Schapiro  says:  "Believing  that 
the  main  function  of  history  is  to  explain  the 
present,  I  planned  in  writing  this  book  to  devote 
increasingly  more  attention  to  the  periods  as 
they  approached  our  own  time."  His  chap- 
ters consequently  might  almost  be  described  as 
an  introduction  to  the  daily  papers.  In  his  mode 
of  writing  history  he  is  equally  unconventional, 
and  equally  happy.  He  breaks  free  complete- 
ly from  the  methods  of  the  mediaeval  chronic- 
ler, who  has  too  long  cast  his  spell  over  modern 
historical  writing ;  and  he  disentangles  the  vari- 
ous threads  and  strands  in  the  web  of  history, 
and  follows  each  through  to  its  ending.  In  this 
way  his  chapters  are  self-contained  stories.  He 
concerns  himself,  not  only  with  the  stock  in- 
cidents of  political  and  military  history,  but 
also  with  industrial  and  agricultural  history, 
with  new  movements  in  thought  and  in  social 

organization,  with  scientific  progress  and  even 
with  literary  progress.  His  method,  in  fact, 
is  topical   and  encyclopaedic. 

In  selecting  phases  of  Professor  Schapiro 's 
book  which  might  call  for  especial  notice,  one 
is  embarrassed  by  the  wealth  of  choice.  A  strik- 
ing feature  of  the  book  is  the  admirable  chap- 
ter entitled  "Revolutionary  Labor  Movements," 
in  which  the  rise  of  nineteenth  century  social- 
ism, anarchism,  and  syndicalism  is  described. 
Another  interesting  chapter  is  that  dealing  with 
"The  Woman's  Movement."  Many  readers  will 
find  food  for  thought  in  the  chapter  which  bears 
the  striking  title,  "The  Expansion  of  Europe," 
in  which  the  imperialistic  projects  of  the  Eu- 
ropean nations  in  Asia  and  Africa  are  brought 
together.  Separate  treatment  is  given  to  the 
"Irish  Question"  and  to  "The  British  Em- 
pire." The  sections  dealing  with  literary  his- 
tory are,  however,  perhaps  the  most  novel  in 
the  book.  To  devote,  as  Professor  Schapiro 
does,  more  space  to  George  Bernard  Shaw  and 
H.  G.  Wells  than  to  the  history  of  the  Domin- 
ion of  Canada  or  to  the  history  of  Australia 
and  New  Zealand  put  together,  must  have  re- 
quired courage  of  no  mean  order ;  but  one  is 
tempted  to  forgive  Professor  Schapiro  because 
of  the  brilliance  of  his  comment  on  the  former, 
and  the  poverty  of  his  treatment  of  the  latter. 
It  may  be  doubted  whether  Professor  Schapiro 
was  well  advised  in  including  in  his  book  the 
long  chapter  on  "The  World  War,"  for,  as 
he  himself  admits  in  his  preface,  the  history  of 
the  World  War  can  hardly  be  written  yet ;  and 
in  his  general  outline  he  rather  sinks  back  into 
the  manner  of  the  mediaeval  chronicler.  But 
these  are  perhaps  captious  criticisms  which 
should  not  be  allowed  to  abate  one's  admiration 
for  the  masterly  way  in  which  the  book  has 
been  planned  and  in  which  the  plan  has  been 
carried  into  execution. 

A  feature  of  the  book  is  its  remarkable  accur- 
acy. In  the  two  pages  devoted  to  Canada  there 
are,  perhaps  inevitably,  some  half-truths ;  but 
there  are  no  actual  errors,  a  statement  which, 
to  be  candid,  can  be  made  about  few  books 
dealing  with  Canada  published  in  the  United 
States.  The  proof-reading  has  been  carefully 
done;  the  book  is  illustrated  with  some  good 
maps;  there  is  a  very  useful  bibliography  and 
an  adequate  index. 





April,  1019. 


T  is  worth  while  climbing— in  order  to  fall. 

Religion  was  created  in  order  that  men 
might  dissent. 
The   inevitable   is   what   we   did   not   try   to 

If  Paris  had  eaten  the  apple,  Troy  might  still 
be  standing. 

Emotion  is  the  sounding-board  on  which  we 
strike  mostly  discords. 

Innocence  differs  from  ignorance  in  that  it 
is  not  vulgar ;  both  are  equally  fatal  to  the  pro- 

The  reason  women  love  dissimulation  is  that 
it  acts  as  a  stimulant  to  their  intuitive  facul- 

History  is  strewn  with  social  failures,  but  the 
world  goes  on  striving. 

It  is  the  triumph  of  hopes  over  fears  which 
sustains  the  faith  that  makes  for  the  progress 
of  the  world. 

Most  people  receive  their  beliefs ;  they  do  not 
form  them.  A  widely-diffused  mental  inde- 
pendence would  be  the  death  of  social  unity. 

The  value  of  history  lies  in  its  negations;  it 
teaches  us  what  not  to  do. 

Partial  knowledge  is  never  more  fatal  than 
when  it  precipitates  conclusions  in  regions  that 
lie  deep  in  shadow. 

The  world  groans  between  dead  common- 
place and  abortive  originality.  Progress  lies 
between  ideas  and  systems  that  will  no  longer 
serve,  and  social  states  that  cannot  be  discerned 
even  afar  off. 

Formality  and  convention  are  necessary,  but 
they  are  the  ministers  of  seemliness  rather  than 
of  feeling.  Feeling  may  go  along  with  them, 
but  feeling  has  its  own  sanctions. 

Between  those  who  think  that  the  lighter  side 
of  life  is  life,  and  those  who  believe  that  what 
men  chiefly  need  is  definite  instruction  on  seri- 
ous but  inscrutable  things,  the  world  is  well 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  sanity ;  it  is  the  mean 
between  the  conventionalism  which  accepts 
everything  that  is  established,  and  the  unreason- 
ing revolt  against  everything  because  it  is  es- 

What  would  happen  if  men  were  agreed  as 
to  what  is  important  and  what  is  not  important 
is  almost  unthinkable ;  there  is  a  sense  in  which 
the  world,  as  we  know  it,  would  come  to  an  end. 

The  principle  that  "it  is  expedient  for  us 
that  one  man  should  die  for  the  people"  is  a 
social  principle  which  sacrifices  the  few  to  the 
many;  it  is  the  refuge  of  an  uneasy  self -right- 
eousness which  knows  its  own  secrets. 

It  is  a  mental  attitude  not  inconsistent  with 
sincerity  to  realise  that  our  certainties  are  not 
the  measure  of  things,  and  that  the  stress  of 
our  emotions  may  be  laid  on  what  is  least  veri- 
fiable and  most  ready  to  vanish  away. 

Authority  is  a  human  necessity ;  sound  au- 
thority is  the  foundation  of  progress.  In  mat- 
ters of  social  concern,  we  cannot,  except  at  a 
price,  have  people  thinking,  and,  as  often  logic- 
ally follows,  acting  for  themselves,  irrespective 
of  their  competence. 

It  seems  that  superstition  is  necessary,  or, 
which  is  the  same  thing,  inevitable ;  those  who 
think  that  it  is  not  have  to  explain  why  it  has 
played  such  a  tremendous  part  in  the  world, 
and  why  no  age,  and  it  may  almost  be  said,  no 
human  being,  is  free  from  it. 

Nations,  like  individuals,  go  on  building  an 
edifice  of  material  prosperity,  and  concurrently 
with  it  they  undergo  a  psychological  evolution. 
In  what  fashion  they  evolve  is  of  consequence, 
for  in  spite  of  self-appreciation,  self-content, 
and  even  external  praise,  the  gifts  of  fortune 
carry  with  them  no  moral  implications. 

Serious  things  belong  to  serious  people;  and 
there  has  never  been  a  nation  which  contained 
more  than  a  serious  minority.  In  any  sense 
which  takes  account  of  interests  not  personal 
and  immediate,  the  majority  of  men  are  not 
serious;  and  quite  apart  from  individual  char- 
acter, there  is  much  in  their  education  and  cir- 
cumstances which  explains  why  they  are  not. 
The  mass  of  men  are  unthinking,  and  many  of 
them  are  worse ;  it  is  still  true  that  nations  are 
saved  by  a  just  remnant,  and  it  is  a  part  of  wis- 
dom to  bear,  without  too  much  vexation,  follies 
that  have  a  long  pedigree. 

The  necessary  absorption  in  material  cares  is 
to  most  people  nine-tenths  of  life;  what  is  im- 
portant for  them  is  to  survive.  It  is  when  this 
necessity  has  been  surmounted,  and  when  we 
reach  a  region  of  choice,  that  social  observation 
widens.  It  is  a  region  that  has  been  surveyed 
from  the  earliest  times  —  upon  which  philoso- 
phers, satirists,  saints  and  sages  have  had  their 
say.  Their  agreement  is  wonderful ;  it  may  be 
compendiously  stated  in  the  proposition  that 
most  people  who  have  freedom  and  opportunity 
are  concerned  for  unimportant  things.  They 
do  not  know  how  to  live,  and  they  have  a  very 
imperfect  appreciation  of,  and  generally  a  total 
indifference  to  all  that  makes  for  the  general 

April.   1919. 

V  I  \  l/'/.l.\    i:ool<  I/. I  \ 


A  world  of  unselfish  and  bumble  men  would 
be  the  negation  of  elements  of  civilization, 
which,  whatever  their  drawbacks,  have  tended 
to  the  development  of  society  from  social  struc- 
tures that  had  drawbacks  still  greater.  The 
world  has  progressed  through  striving,  and  the 
outcome  of  individual  and  collective  striving  is 

There  are  sentiments  and  emotions  that  cost 
little,  that  are  pleasurable  or  comforting  in 
themselves;  as  aids  to  self-deception  they  have 
a  well-established  reputation.  Spurious  forms 
of  loyalty,  of  patriotism,  and  of  religion,  have 
a  common  pedigree — they  are  equally  founded 
in  vanity,  superstition,  and  self-pleasing.  It  is 
not  possible  to  have  virtues  that  are  inexpen- 
sive, and  to  stand  well  above  the  crowd. 

•The  lines  of  progress  are  many,  and  enthu- 
siasts are  not  well  fitted  to  take  full  account  of 
them.  They  are  fated  to  illusions  that  may  be 
termed  beneficent,  because  they  give  them 
power  to  do  the  work  to  which  they  seem  to  be 
called.  Only  those  who  are  unable  to  form  some 
idea  of  the  procession  of  man  through  the  ages 
will  be  ready  to  assign  a  more  than  relative 
value  to  the  enthusiasms  of  even  the  greatest 
reformers.  Experience,  which  tests  all  things, 
enables  us  to  recognise  that  it  is  not  every  truth 
that  is  for  all  time.  Movements  that  appear  to 
have  in  them  the  promise  and  potency  of  the 
millennium  are  seen  to  be  mere  links  in  an  end- 
less chain.  The  religious,  moral,  and  political 
movements  that  stir  men  are  pregnant  with 
great  hopes,  but  between  hope  and  realisation  is 

a  gap  that  is  never  bridged.  By  the  slow  ac- 
tion of  many  forces,  the  conditions  of  all  prob- 
lems are  changed,  and  new  adjustments,  new  so- 
lutions, and  new  prophets  arise. 

Suspicion,   in   its  social  aspect,   is  a  form  of 
precaution  begotten  of  experience.     Men  know 
their  own  motives,  and  they  know,  more  or  less, 
one  another.    What  people  do,  and  refrain  from 
doing,  is  judged,  not  so  much  by  what  they  pro- 
fess, as  by  what  it  is  thought  they  must  be  aim- 
ing at.     "Now  what  does  he  mean  by  that," 
said  a  diplomat,  when  he  heard  that  a  colleague 
was  ill.    There  are  simple  explanations  of  things 
that   are  not  in  the  least  incredible,  but  there 
are  persons  much  too  astute  to  accept  them;  they 
know    better;    in    spite    of    all     appearances. 
Whether  the  tendency  be  towards  favorable  or 
unfavorable    'estimates    of   human    nature,    the 
mental  medium  through  which  men  and  events 
are  seen  colors  everything.     Readiness  of  sus- 
picion, or  the  reverse,  is  thus  a  part  of  tempera- 
ment.   Obviously  in  this,  as  in  so  many  matters, 
prudence  lies  between  extremes,  which  is  only 
another  way  of  saying  that  the  right  use  of  sus 
picion  belongs  to  the  insight  which  takes  men 
in  the  mass  to  be   neither    wholly    good     nor 
wholly  bad,  and  which  recognises    that    as    be- 
tween individual  men,  there  are  important  dif- 
ferences.   As  there  is  no  general  rule  for  being 
wise  and  discerning,  so  there  is  no  rule  for  be- 
ing suspicious   at  the   proper  time  and   place. 
Hence  both  excess  and  defect  of  a  quality  that 
plays  a  necessary  part  in  social  and  individual 
preservation ;  between  misplaced  trust  and  un- 
founded mistrust  lies  the  tragedy  of  life. 

The  Island  of  Intrigue 

An  island  is  the  ideal  setting  for  a  mystery, 
marvel  or  romance,  because  almost  anything 
can  consistently  happen  on  an  island  if  it  is 
small  enough.  Possibly  that  is  why  Isabel  Os- 
trander  chose  that  little  piece  of  wild,  almost 
unin<habited  land  off  the  Coast  of  Maine — 
Hog's  Back  Island  by  name — as  the  stage  for 
her  story,  "The  Island  of  Intrigue."  The  tell- 
er of  the  tale,  who  is  also  the  heroine,  is  an  in- 
genuous young  millionairess  with  no  one  in  the 
wide  world  to  love  her  (when  the  book  opens) 
but  an  adoring,  though  eternally  busy  father 
who,  on  the  first  page,  disappoints  her  hope  of 
accompanying  him  on  a  long  trip  he  is  about 
to  make.  Because  of  this,  the  unfortunate  girl 
sees  the  desolate  prospect  stretching  before  her 
of  spending  the  summer  with  a  stupid,  rich  fam- 
ily she  hasn  't  seen  for  years  and  years,  not  since 
she  was  a  little  girl.  They  were  nice  when  they 
were  poor,  and  she  was  little,  but  she  soon  dis- 
covers that  they  have  grown  unaccountably 
vulvar  and  horrid.  Altogether,  she  has  a  per- 
fectly abominable  time,  and  we  don't  know  what 
she  would  have  done  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that 

delicious  young  man  who  "happened"  exactly 
at  the  right  time.  It  was  a  most  fortunate  co- 

The  fair  young  heroine  lures  you  along  to  the 
middle  of.  the  book  before  you  discover  that  it 
is  a  mystery  tale  you  are  reading,  and  that 
there  is  a  murder,  and  a  lot  of  real  horrid 
criminals  in  the  story — half  a  dozen  of  them,  in 
fact.  She  is  very  young,  the  heroine — Oil  Well 
Waring 's  daughter,  very  young  and  trusting 
and  unversed  in  the  world's  ways,  but  those 
people  who  are  trying  to  frighten  a  million  dol- 
lars out  of  her  father  soon  learn  that  she  is  a 
lot  cleverer  than  they  counted  upon  her  being. 
That's  what  spoilt  their  plan,  of  course,  that  and 
the  young  man's  presence.  The  book  has  in- 
genuous, unpretentious  simplicity,  and  healthi- 
ness. There  is  hardly  an  obvious  page  of  love, 
yet  love  flows  along,  like  a  hidden  understreani, 
through  all  the  last  chapters,  welling  up  very 
occasionally  with  a  little  bubble.  In  the  end 
too,  Justice  has  her  way  with  all  the  wicked 
ones  in  a  most  satisfying  manner.  (Dent,  To- 
ronto, $1.50.) 



April,  1919. 

Novelists,  Pulpits  and  False  Doctrines 

Gale,  Zona:    "Birth."   Macmillan,   Toronto,   $1.60. 

Grey,  Zane:  "The  Desert  of  Wheat."  Musson,  Toronto. 
$1.50.      (Harper.   New   York). 

White,  William  Allen:  "In  the  Heart  of  a  Fool."  Mac- 
millan,   Toronto,    $1.60. 

THE  yearning  of  the  American  novelist 
to  ascend  into  the  pulpit  and  preach  a 
sermon  is  usually  insuperable;  and  the 
American  public,  not  long  emancipated 
from  the  church-going  habit  and  still  inclined  to 
like  being  preached  at,  if  it  can  lie  on  a  soft  sofa 
in  the  parlor  during  the  process,  seems  to  like  to 
hear  the  text  given  out  and  the  cushions  thump- 
ed. But  there  is  none  of  your  old  gospel  in  the 
preaching;  it  must  be  the  new  stuff,  with  all 
the  latest  catchwords;  and  very  sour  and  un- 
matured some  of  it  is.  Mr.  William  Allen 
White  is  by  antecedents  a  journalist,  which 
merely  shows  that  the  born  preachers  are  more 
and  more  realising  that  there  are  better  pulpits 
than  those  in  the  churches.  He  must  undoubted- 
ly have  preached  unintermittently  in  the  col- 
umns of  the  Emporia  (Kas.)  Gazette;  and  he  is 
now  preaching  to  a  much  larger  and  hungrier 
audience  in  a  series  of  American  novels,  of 
which  the  best-known  to  date  is  "A  Certain  Rich 
Man."  It  will  be  noted  that  he  takes  his  titles 
from  the  same  source  as  his  forbears  did  their 
texts.  The  New  York  Sun  says  his  new  novel, 
"In  the  Heart  of  a  Fool.""  will  "profoundly 
affect  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  many  who 
read  it  and  so  will  alter  their  lives."  It  is  cer- 
tainly addressed  to  those  who  want  to  have 
their  thoughts  and  feelings  affected,  to  the  type 
of  people  who  go  to  revivals  for  just  that  pur- 
pose ;  but  we  hope  that  it  will  not  largely  achieve 
its  purpose,  for  it  seems  to  us  that  the  doctrine 
which  it  teaches  is  decidedly  dangerous.  It  is 
an  enormous  book — 615  pages — and  very  loose- 
ly and  raggedly  written,  but  it  contains  in  pass- 
ages a  very  picturesque  and  eloquent  denuncia- 
tion of  constituted  authority  (authority  fallen 
into  evil  hands,  it  is  true,  but  authority  none 
the  less)  and  holds  up  to  a  somewhat  sentiment- 
al and  undistinguishing  reverence  the  very  type 
of  impractical  visionary  who,  in  Russia  and 
elsewhere,  is  at  this  moment  making  the  world 
a  place  of  horror,  disorder  and  disorganization. 
Mr.  White  is  essentially  a  revolutionary,  and  a 
sentimental  revolutionary,  and  therefore  in  some 
measure  a  dangerous  man.  His  contribution 
to  literature  is,  like  many  another  modern  Am- 
erican novel,  the  contribution  of  a  man  who 
has  no  faith  in  the  institutions  of  the  United 
States  to  preserve  justice,  liberty  and  the  inter- 
ests of  the  community ;  and  he  therefore  por- 
trays, not  merely  as  a  psychologically  interest- 
ing thing  (there  is  no  artistic  detachment  about 
any  of  his  writings),  hut  as  a  highly  desirable 
thing,  the  efforts  of  his  strike  leaders,  his  pro- 
phets of  the  new  social  gospel,  his  wielders  of 
■"spiritual  forces,"  to  defy  the  courts  and  in- 

voke a  physical  conflict  with  the  military.  Of 
course  the  courts  and  the  military  authorities 
are  represented  in  the  blackest  colors,  as  the 
slaves  of  the  "interests,"  but  that  is  the  inevit- 
able argument  of  the  revolutionary.  If  the 
courts  were  just  and  the  authorities  honest, 
what  excuse  would  there  be  for  revolution  ? 

Perhaps  the  best  thing  to  be  said  for  Mr. 
White  is  that  he  makes  out  so  poor  an  excuse 
for  revolution  anyhow,  for  his  "fool"  is  so  vis- 
ibly a  fool  and  so  little  a  prophet  of  real  pro- 
gress, that  it  is  difficult  to  sympathise  with 
him.  The  Zane  Grey  novel,  on  the  other  hand, 
belongs  emphatically  to  the  anti-revolutionary 
school,  and  is  chiefly  devoted  to  the  misdeeds  of 
the  T.W.W.  in  the  Western  wheat  country.  It  is 
vividly  told,  and  its  love  episodes  are  pleasant 
and  intelligible,  which  is  more  than  can  be  said 
for  Mr.  White's,  in  whose  pages  love  is  much 
the  same  rampant  and  incomprehensible  mon- 
ster as  in  the  amorphous  novels  of  Will  Leving- 
ton  Comfort.  It  is  interesting  and  significant 
that  the  revolutionary  theme,  though  treated 
so  differently,  should  form  the  subject  of  both 
of  these  important  novels  of  the  American  sea- 

In  Zona  Gale's  "Birth"  we  come  into  much 
calmer  and  more  artistic  atmosphere.  It  is  an- 
other study  of  village  life,  but  with  something  of 
the  seriousness  and  breadth  of  view  of  the  Eng- 
lish novelists — a  far  more  important,  if  per- 
haps less  popular,  piece  of  work  than  the 
"Friendship  Village"  tales.  It  is  not  a  cheer- 
ful tale.  It  is  a  picture  of  very  weak,  bewild- 
ered, unadapted  human  souls,  beating  in  baffle- 
ment against  sordid,  spiritless  monotony  of  an 
American  village,  against  the  narrow  walls  of 
a  species  of  community  which  has  failed  to  keep 
up  with  the  expansion  of  modern  life,  against 
the  lack  of  opportunity,  of  beauty,  of  reason- 
ableness— against  all  the  things  that  for  two 
generations  past  have  made  existence  in  most 
villages  on  this  continent  a  nightmare  and  driv- 
en hundreds  of  thousands  of  villagers  into  the 
pitiless,  overcrowded,  unhealthy  cities:  But 
Miss  Gale  draws  these  poor  futile  wretches, 
both  men  and  women,  with  an  intensity  of 
sympathy  that  lifts  their  story  almost  to  the 
level  of  tragedy.  And  she  has  a  true  poet's 
grasp  of  the  immense  significance,  the  beauty 
the  redeeming  power  of  Death,  even  the  death 
of  the  lowliest  of  men  and  women.  The  prob- 
lem that  this  book  deals  with  is  a  great  one, 
no  less  than  the  opening  of  the  possibility  of  a 
full,  rich,  human  life  to  millions  of  people  on 
this  continent.  And  "Birth"  is  an  important 
document  for  its  study,  to  be  read  along  with 
the  "Spoon  River  Anthology"  and  the  current 
volumes  on  The  Problem  of  Village  Life  in 

April.   1919. 

CAN  I/'/ .1  A    BOOK  IMA 


Work  for  the  Anthologist 


MacDonald,  Wilson:   "The  Song  i>f  The   Prairie   Land, 
am!   Other   Poems,"   with    Introduction   by   Albert 

E.  S.  Smyth.'      McClelland  and  Stewart.  Toronto, 
Holland,    Norah:    "Spun- Yarn    and    Spindrift."      Dent. 
Toronto,   $1. 

Hueffer,  Ford  Madox:   "On  Heaven,  and  Other  Poems. 
Written  on  Active  Service."     Dent.  Toronto,  $1.25. 


.  MacDONALD  has  written  an  extra- 
ordinary book  of  verse  whose  merits 
and  demerits  are  alike  extreme,  so  that 

the    ony    fair    way    to    review    it    is    at    some 


The  "Prelude*'  at  onee  shows  one  of  his 
gifts,  the  use  of  odd  rhymes  from  which  the  sense 
is  not  often  wrenched : 

The  other  traced  and  interlaced 

By  the  strange  fancy  of  a  Dorian 

Was   sloped    and   curved    to   a   woman's   waist, 

And  worthy  the  pen  of  a  grim  historian. 

but  equally  it  shows  his  faults,  a  lack  of  struc- 
ture, and  loose  imagery.  It  sets  out  to  contrast 
two  jugs,  one  hewn  from  wood,  the  other  of 
Greek  pottery,  and  Caneo  wonders  from  which 
he  shall  drink.  The  poet  then  declares  himself 
to  be  Caneo,  and  the  jugs  types  of  the  muse, 
rough  or  highly  finished,  but,  speaking  in  his 
own  person,  he  brings  in  a  third : 

This  is  the  poel  's  Bell ;  to  know 

I  low    rich   a   thing   is   Ins  song's  treasure; 
To  stand  at   night   i   nthe  wind  flow, 
In  a  pure  hour  of  leisure, 

though  T  could  scan: 

This  is  the  poet's  Hell;  to  know 
How  rich  a  thing  is  his  song's  treasure; 
To  stand  at   night   in  the  windy  flow, 
In  the  purest  hour  of  leisure, 

Mr.  MacDonald  may  reply  that  I  am  taming 
his  metres.  Not  at  all.  The  next  four  lines 
read : 

To  call  to  his  children  and  find 

His  voice  is  a  broken  chord 

That  is  weary  from  calling  all  day  in  the  wind : 

"This  hour's  bread,  0  Lord," 

different,  but  not  club-footed. 

"A   Song   to   Canada"   has  his   first   purple 
patch : 

And  here  is  my  grief  that  no  longer  she  cares 

For  the  tumult  that  crowds  in  a  rune 

When   the   white   curving  throat   of  a   cataract 

In  a  song  to  the  high  floating  moon, 

marred  only  by  the  elliptical  use  of  "bares." 
He  means  "lies  bare,"  but  that  will  neither  fit 
the  line  nor  rhyme  with  "cares."  I  leave  it  to 
him  to  re-write  it  to  match  this: 

Or  a  basin  of  rock,  by  the  sea  flavored 
Shall  be  the  cup  I  fill. 

and  the  parallelism  ends.  These  lines  also  show 
a  recurring  metrical  deficiency.  The  preced- 
ing lines  alone  demand : 

Or. a  basin  of  rock  by  the  salt  sea  flavored, 

while  a  "wisp  of  juice"  is  not  a  trope  as  is 
Francis  Thompson's 

I  see  the  crimson  blazing  of  thy  shawms. 

Mr.  MacDonald  is  very  fond  of  his  "wisp," 
which  in  "The  Cry  of  The  Song  Children"  be- 
comes one  of  bread,  but  this  is  as  bad,  and  I 
cannot  scan : 

But  this  is  my  grief  that  no  longer  she  cares 
For  the  old  wounding  message  of  truth 
That  sounds  on  the  lips  of  a  poet,  who  dares 
Look  under  the  rouge  of  her  youth, 

less  fine  imagery,  but  better  verse. 

Unfortunately,  the  more  ambitious  he  is,  the 
less  sufficient  his  craftsmanship,  as  is  seen  in 
"A  Poet  Stood  Forlorn": 

Brings   warmth   that   droops  in  drowsiness  the 

is  not  happy,  though  defensible,  with  "droop" 
as  an  active  verb. 
The  lines  preceding 

Toward  the  mystic  haunt  where  Beauty  dwells 

require  "to-ward"  which  is  horrifying. 


( \  I  SAD  1. 1 N   BOOKMAN 

April,  1919. 

'Twas  imperfection  \s  gain 

That  split  this  elm  and  made  it  grow  in  twain. 

is  a  good  image  for  the  "beauty  of  ugliness," 
except  that  he  does  not  mean  the  "gain"  split 
the  elm,  but  that  a  split  elm  gains  by  its  very 
lack  of  symmetry  a  strange,  new  beauty. 
Immediately  after  this  comes: 

In  one  famed  park,  that  sires  a  perfect  craft, 

of  which,  first,  a  park  can  do  no  such  thing,  sec- 
ond, his  ears  were  stuffed  with  wool  when  he 
wrote  "park"  and  "craft"  in  one  line. 

These  are  not  all  the  offences  in  six  pages; 
but,  though  I  have  noted,  with  just  qualifica- 
tions, the  good,  I  have  not  done  equal  justice  to 
the  bad,  lest  I  should  seem  to  pay  tithe  of  mint, 
etc.,  and  to  omit  the  weightier  matters  of  the 
law,  which  are,  besides  judgment,  mercy  and 

The  "Song  of  The  Snowshoe  Tramp"  aims 
less  high  and  almost  hits  the  mark.  The  "wisp" 
turns  up  once  more,  but  lest  my  criticism  seem 
waspish,  this  time  it  is  of  "thread."  There  is 
here  a  good  example  of  his  carelessness : 

We  carried  the  shoes  to  the  marge  of  the  town, 
To  the  edge  of  a  still  white  moor; 

Now  "marge"  suggests  a  wide  space,  e.g.,  the 
marge  of  the  great  deep,  and  if  he  were  to  write : 

We  carried  the  shoes  to  the  edge  of  the  town, 
To  the  marge  of  a  still  white  moor, 

he  would  gain  the  alliteration  of  the  t  's  and  d  's 
in  the  first,  of  the  m's  in  the  second  line,  and 
also  would  make  the  town  stand  out  sharply 
limited  against  the  larger  picture  of  the  moor 
conjured  up  by  the  word  "marge." 

Next  comes  "The  Whip-poor-will"  with  line's 
as  fine  as: 

Limned  on  a  leaden  sky,  the  huddled  trees 
Stand  like  the  evil  dregs  in  some  black  drink, 

and  as  bad  as: 

Listing  thy  song  waves  plash  a  velvet  shore, 

but  I  will  this  time  attempt  to  analyse  struc- 
ture instead  of  detail. 

The  Whip-poor-will  is  appropriately  invoked, 
"Sad  Minstrel,"  etcs.,  but  it  has  a  load  on  its 
conscience,  and  is  made  to  wait  till  night  to  un- 
burden it.  There  is  no  harm  in  this,  for  the 
Whip-poor-will  is  of  course  Mr.  MacDonald. 
But  the  sun  of  mercy  has  just  died  with  the 
last  golden  ray.  which  brings  in  the  gloomy, 
but  purple,  patch  above. 

The  scene  is  now  set,  and  the  bird  sings  its 
"one  simple  song"  to  the  "silent  copse,"  while 
the  poet  "on  a  hill,  in  pensive  mood"  stands 
"listing,"  and  he  then  reflects: 

Oft  hath  Selene,  in  the  vale  of  sheep, 
Fondling  her  fair  Endymion,  as  he  lay 
Pillowed    where    tearful    grasses   nightly    weep, 
Pled  with  Tacita  through  thy  bowers  to  stray, 
And  warn  thee  lest  thy  lay 
Should    rouse    her    lover    from     his      dreamful 

And  angry,  often  hath  she,  knowing  thou 
Dost  Phoebus  fear,  to  trick  thee  it  was  morn. 
Burnished  her  chariot's  prow, 

and  the  complications  and  bad  verse  begin.  I 
presume  the  Whip-poor-will  was  once  guilty  of 
disturbing  Selene's  enjoyment  of  Endymion, 
though  why  it  should  be  charged  with  this  I  can- 
not fathom,  save  that  the  poet  elsewhere  loves 
to  wrap  his  tongue  round  every  syllable  of 
Selene,  though  the  clue  is  possibly  in  the  last 
three  lines,  the  poet  reflecting,  "when  Selene 
heard  this  bird,  she  would  have  liked  to  wring 
its  neck,"  but  the  reflection  is  an  interruption. 
However,  he  goes  on : 

When  Eurus  drives  the  first  reluctant  light, 
With  all  Apollo's  pageantry  behind — 
A  dew-imbibing  cortege — and  the  Night 
Staggers  to  some  black  recess,  stricken  blind, 

(note  the  wrong  accentuation  of  "recess") 

Full  various  are  the  kind 
That  tune  a  medley  for  the  exiled  king. 
And  so,  doth  man  not  woo  his  minstrelsy 
At  flush  of  power ;  doth  every  bard  not  sing 
When  Pomp  and  might  pass  by? 

Greater  I  deem  is  that  attempt  to  thrill 
The  hour  of  gloom  with  deliquescent  call. 

Apparently  the  thought  is  that  while  Man 
usually  hails  Apollo,  the  Whip-poor-will  does 
better  to  "brave  the  pall  of  this  Cerberian 
Hall,"  though  this  clashes  with  "tuning  a  med- 
ley for  the  exiled  king,"  i.e.  Night,  not  Apollo; 
yet  that  this  is  the  meaning  seems  clear  from 
these  lines : 

Like  thine  our  noblest  utterance  hath  been 
Out-bugled    through    the    hours    with    shadows 

and  then  the  poet,  after  calling  fancy  fickle, 
describes  how  the  bird  first  seemed  like  one  of 
the  foolish  virgins,  then  to  wear  a  robe  of  cour- 
age as  it  sang  through  the  increasing  gloom : 

Fancy  must  play;  did  pierce  thine  ebon  sphere 
Some  soldier,  broken  parcel  of  lost  poweT, 
I   doubt  not  he  would  hear 

April,  L919. 

CANADIAN    I'.ooK  i/.l  V 

Thee  calling  back  to  line  the  craven  band 
Thai   hushed  their  Bonga  before  the  cuirassed 

Like  some  more  ardent  lover  of  his  land 
Who  hails  bark  fleeting  soldiers  to  their    nark. 
Like  thine  his  cry:  0  hark! 
Like  is  thy  note,  so  fraught  with  dull  despair. 
(Too  full  already  is  that  frory  bed.) 
And  thou  dost  call  as  vainly  through  oight  air 
As  he  calls  o'er  his  dead. 

and  the  idea  that  if  a  soldier  could  picture  the 
same  scene  as  the  poet,  he  would  imagine  the 
Whip-poor-will  calling  back  the  birds  afraid 
of  darkness,  as  he  would  rally  his  men,  is  orig- 
inal, though  the  execution  ("did  pierce,"  the 
abrupt  run-on  to  "some  soldier,"  and,  worse 
from  "hear"  to  "thee  calling)  is  atrocious, 
while  the  transition  from  the  seventh  to  the 
last  line  is  certainly  sudden. 

This  is  the  second  ,and  last  interruption,  and 
the  poet  reverts  to  his  opening  mood: 

To-night  again  I  lie  on  that  green  isle, 

but  it  is  not  strange  that  he  has  forgotten  he 
commenced  "listing"  on  a  hill,  though  he  re- 
members the  bird  was  troubled: 

If  we  like  thee,  dear,  gentle  bird,  could  sing 
Away  our  sorrow  in  the  dark  alone, 

but  the  last  stanzas  are  clear,  if  weak : 

But  we  must  face  the  multitude  and  smile 
Though  Anguish  leaneth  on  the  heart's  strained 

which  is  worse  than  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox's 

"Trapper  One  and  Trapper  Two"  is  a  tale 
of  two  trappers  who  loved  the  same  girl.  She 
dies,  bequeathing  to  One  a  locket.  One  dies, 
charging  Two  to  bury  it  with  him  (under  pen- 
alty of  a  curse) — an  "old  song  re-sung": 

And  the  day  you  find  me  lifeless,  in  this  cabin 

gently  search 
For  a  testament  to  prove  my  words  to  men. 
Should  they  challenge  truth  you'll  find 
Foil  to  parry  in  a  pocket. 
When  you  reach  it,  pray  unwind 
Someone's  hair  within  a  locket. 
Hold  it  to  mine  eyes  grim  socket :  I  shall  see  it, 

dead  and  blind. 
Would  you  grant  a  dead  man  bliss,  press  it  to 

my  lips  to  kiss : 
Though  I  'm  dead  I  swear  I  '11  kiss  it  with  a  dead 

man's  sacred  kiss. 

Touch  thy  glass  to  mine,  0  comrade,  who  know 

sorrow  such  as  mine : 
Legion  of  the  hopeless  lovers!   drink  with   me 

this  bitter  wine. 

1  pass  over  "Otus  and  Bismol, "  in  which  Otus 

is  the  flesh  and  Rismel  the  soul,  because  I  found 
myself  as  incapable  as  the  pool  of  remembering 
which  was  which,  and  quote  from  the  entirely 
delightful  "Whist-Wheel": 

And  over  the  hills  I  went. 
And  a  gentle  mound 
I  found; 

Like  some  fairy's  lost  pillow  upon  the  ground, 
And  I  knelt  on  my  knee, 
And  wrote  on  the  sand, 
With  a  sorrowing  hand: 
"Little  brown  Dee 
Sleeps  here  by  the  sea  : 
All  ye  who  pass 

"Mary  Mahone"  is  more  of  a  poet's  ballad 
than  the  others,  commencing: 

A  Poet  in  soul  is  our  Mary  Mahone: 
She  walks  with    a    sweetheart    when     walking 

but  the  rest  of  it  is  only  pretty. 

I  have  nearly  overlooked  "At  the  Ford": 

Who  now  shall  fear  to  journey  where  the  feet 
Of  all  our  noble  dead  have  ferried  forth  ? 
The  solemn  air  that  fans  the  tragic  ford 
Is  sweet  with  their  remembrance.     They  have 

To  light  the  temples  of  a  fading  star 
Against  our  lonely  passing, 

a  strain  sustained  for  thirty  lines,  when  the 
poet  is  once  more  swallowed  up  in  the  "exuber- 
ance of  his  own  verbosity." 

The  concluding  poem  is  "Peace": 

Flow,  flag,  in  the  soft  wind ;  blow,  bugle,  blow ; 
The  day  we  dreamed  of  through  the  years  is 

Lowered  is  Mars '  red  spear ; 
And  the  shot-peopled  air, 
Tired  of  the  wild  trumpet's  blare, 
Tired  of  the  upturned,  glassy  eyes  of  men, 
Is  quiet  again. 

Discord  has  fled  with  her  gigantic  peals. 
And,  at  her  heels, 

Walks  the  old  silence  of  the  long  ago. 
Flow,  flag,  in  the  soft  wind ;  blow,  bugles,  blow, 

and  the  likening  of  peace  to  a  great  silence 
after  a  great  noise  is  fine  of  itself,  and  the  line 
in  which  the  thought  is  embodied  is  also  very 
fine,  but  there  are  other  fine  lines  here: 

I  see  the  hours  quaff  up  a  mother's  tears 
As  the  sun  drinks  dew  upon  a  Devon  hed<?e. 



April,  1919. 

The  gun  that  camouflaged  her  brutal  throat 
In  Bourlon's  thicket 

Shall  dream  to-night  in  wonder  at  the  note 
Of  some  lone  cricket. 

And  that  vast  company  we  call  the  dead 
Shall  know  the  flag  of  peace  flies  overhead 
Because  of  the  new  lightness  of  our  tread. 

and  there  was  no  need  to  borrow  thunder  from 
McCrae's  famous  lyric,  and  the  last  four  lines 

are  banal. 

The  indiscriminate  Introduction,  bracketing 
this  poet  with  Keats,  naturally  reminds  me  of 
Gif ford's  review.  We  are  now  told  that  Gif- 
ford  was  blind  to  genius.  Of  course,  he  might 
have  seen  some  of  "Endymion  V  purple  patch- 
es. It  is  easy  to  be  wise  after  the  event.  I  there- 
fore plead  that  I  have  praised  Mr.  MacDonald's 
purple  patches,  and  dare  say  that  if  he  pays  as 
much  attention  to  my  blame  as  Keats  did  to 
Gif  ford's  scorching,  we  may  have  another 
"Hyperion."  The  flashes  here  are  blazing,  and 
the  poet's  own.  We  are  told  he  designed  the 
cover  of  his  book,  and  writes  operas,  libretto, 
score  and  scenery,  all  by  himself.  Judging  from 
his  verse,  he  has  a  streaky  sort  of  genius  in  all 
the  arts,  but  he  needs  much  more  self-criticism. 

Miss  Holland's  first  volume  of  verse  taken 
as  a  whole,  falls  definitely  into  the  category  of 
belles  lettres. 

This,  rightly  understood,  is  not  doing  it  any 
injustice;  for  belles  lettres  and  minor  poetry 
(which  are  not  the  same  thing)  comprise  that 
field  in  which  those  random  flowers  grow  for 
the  gathering  of  garlands.  The  major  poet,  in 
his  greater  complexity,  is  like  a  tree  whose  roots 
run  down  into  the  earth,  and  whose  branches 
spread  upwards  towards  the  sky. 

The  Greeks  with  their  exquisite  sense  of  the 
fitness  of  things  recognised  this  by  plucking 
the  flowers  for  their  anthologies  and  leaving 
the  branches  upon  their  mighty  stem. 

If  to-day  the  giants  of  the  forest  are  few, 
never  were  there  so  many  or  sweeter  flowers; 
and  the  true  anthologist  (not  he  who  makes 
selections  from  the  work  of  major  poets),  light- 
ing upon  this  book,  will  more  than  once  delight- 
edly exclaim,  "And  here  is  another!"  Such 
a  flower  is  "The  Little  Dog-Angel." 

Criticism  of  work  of  this  nature  seems  not 
only  ungenerous,  but  beside  the  mark ;  yet  be- 
cause there  are  hints  of  greater  ambitions,  it 
must  be  attempted,  however  delicately. 

One  positive  merit  of  Miss  Holland's  verse  is 
that  it  is,  as  verse,  good.  There  is  "ope"  once 
in  a  line  in  which  "open"  would  read  just  as 
easily,  and  "yore"  somewhere  else,  and  "neath" 
somewhere  else  again,  but  these  blemishes  are 
few.  Most  of  the  stock  phrases  are  avoided. 
These  are  things  for  which  to  be  thankful.  Yet, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  are  few  touches  such  as 

"the  medicine  of  your  gladness"  in  "0  Littlest 
Hands  and  Dearest."  One  swallow  does  not 
make  a  summer,  and  a  purple  patch  does  not 
make  a  poet ;  but  as  the  swallow  is  the  herald 
of  summer,  so  the  purple  patch  gives  promise 
of  the  imperial  pomp.  There  is  hardly  an  unex- 
pected phrase. 

As  there  is  too  little  individual  accent  in  the 
phrase,  so  there  is  too  little  new  in  melody. 
There  are  frank  imitations  such  as  "The  Gen- 
tlemen of  Oxford, ' '  and  others,  with  which  there 
can  be  no  quarrel.  But  this  conscious  imitation 
has  unfortunately  led  to  unconscious  imitation, 
notably  in  "Sea-Song"  (Masefield's  "Sea- 
Fever").  "The  Last  Voyage"  (Masefield's 
"D'Avalos'  Prayer"),  "Ships  of  Old  Renown" 
(Masefield's  "Cargoes"),  "A  Song  of  Erin" 
(Ethna  Carberry's  "The  Passing  of  the  Celt"), 
less  so  in  "The  Remittance  Men"  (Kipling 
echo),  "In  Arcadie"  (Noyes  echo),  while  es- 
pecially subtle  is  the  relation  between  Miss  Hol- 
land's Celtic  poems  and  those  of  Yeats,  "A.E." 
and  Fiona  MacLeod. 

It  is  well  that  Miss  Holland  has  such  good 
taste  as  to  choose  these  poets  for  her  models ; 
but  it  is  ill  that  we  see  so  clearly  not  what  she 
is,  but  what  she  prefers. 

There  is  promise  in  the  variety  of  things  at- 
tempted in  this  book,  but  of  none  of  them  can 
we  say  (as  of  most  of  Marjorie  Pickthall's 
"Drift  of  Pinions"),  "No  one  else  could  have 
written  that!" 

Miss  Pickthall  is  a  true,  though  limited  poet, 
because  all  but  a  few  of  her  poems  represent  her 
own  spiritual  experience,  not  merely  her  taste. 
This  gives  to  her  poetry  as  a  whole  a  certain 
stamp  as  evident  as  that  of  any  of  the  major 
poets  whose  experience  of  life  is  more  complex. 
This  stamp  is  the  all-important  thing.  With- 
out it  one  has  hardly  even  a  minor  poet,  but 
only  minor  verse,  or,  as  we  have  said,  belles 

If  Miss  Holland  can  look  more  into  her  own 
soul,  and  less  into  books,  and  exhibit  the  same 
variety  in  a  more  deeply  personal  manner, 
there  will  be  a  unity  in  that  variety  which  will 
make  her  more  a  poet,  and  less  a  writer  of 
poems — a  distinction  not  without  a  difference. 
As  it  is,  we  shall  be  happily  content  to  re- 
vert to  our  initial  figure  of  speech,  and  to  gather 
another  flower  or  two  before  we  go. 

"Our  Dead"  is  a  very  fine  poem  indeed,  one 
of  which  anyone  might  be  proud.  "Newbury 
Town"  is  an  equally  fine  ballad.  Of  the  Celtic 
poems,  "Easter  1917  In  Memoriam  Thomas 
MacDonagh"  is  the  most  convincing. 

We  have  chosen  all  "strong"  poems — not  be- 
cause it  is  our  preference  (we  yield  to  no  one 
in  our  appreciation  of  Celtic  wistfulness  when 
it  is  not  second-hand),  but  because  we  believe 
that  Miss  Holland's  originality  inclines  towards 
strength,  and  we  would  encourage  what  is  orig- 
inal rather  than  what  is  derived. 

Canadian  poetry  has  been  either  so  neglected 
or  has  received  such  extravagant  praise,  that  a 
reflective  review  such  as  this  which  we  have  at- 

April,  1919. 

r  \\  IDIAN    BOOKMAN 


tempted  may  mislead  some  readers,  and  we 
therefore  add  thai  Miss  Holland's  booh  is  one 
to  be  bdught. 

Mr.  Hueffer,  confessing  that  he  lias  written 
prefaces  enough,  nevertheless  defies  once  more 
the  proverb  that  qui  s'excust  s' accuse,  and  pub- 
lishes his  verses  with  a  preface  in  which  be  says. 
"The  greater  part  of  this  book  is,  I  notice  on 
putting  it  together,  in  either  vers  libr<  or  rhym- 
ed vers  libre.     I  am  not  goinj:  to  npologise  for 

tli is  or  to  defend  vers  libre  as  such 

Vers  libre  is  the  only  medium  in  which  I  can 
convey  my  more  intimate  moods.  Vers  librt 
is  a  very  jolly  medium  in  which  to  write  and  to 
read,  if  it  bo  read  conversationally  and  quietly. 
And  anyhow,  symmetrical  or  rhymed  verse  is 
for  me  a  cramped  and  difficult  medium — or  an 
easy  and  uninteresting  one.  But  1  certainly 
don't  put  the  things  forward  with  any  jaunty 
air  or  fling  them  in  the  faces  of  the  critics." 

Such  a  sophisticated  writer  as  Mr.  Hueffer 
will  hardly  expect  lis  to  accept  this  charming 
naivete  with  equal  insouciance,  and  according- 
ly, undisarmed  by  it,  let  us  pass  judgment  on 
the  work  so  introduced. 

That  it  is  generally  strong,  and  often  of  great 
beauty  may  be  gladly  admitted,  and  all  the 
more  therefore  does  one  regret  the  prosaic  leav- 
en in  the  poetic  lump. 

Setting  aside  all  questions  of  rhythm,  it  is  an 
infinite  pity  that  "Antwerp"  should  be  par- 
ticularly ruined  by  such  a  line  as  "Oh  poor 
dears!"  That  is  to  debase  pity  to  bathos,  or  to 
be  insensible  to  the  incongruous. 

It  is  a  striking  book  because  the  raw  material 
of  poetry  is  inherently  superior  to  mere  versi- 
fication, and  the  imaginative  quality  of  the  book 
is  very  high,  though  more  flashing  than  sus- 

Yet  compare  "Footsloggers"  to  Masefield's 
"August,  1914,"  both  treating  of  the  love  of 

one's   land,   and    the   difference    between    irripre 
sioiis  which    are    merely   jotted    down    and    those 

which  arc  brooded  upon  is  very  apparent. 

Again,  take  the  title-poem.  <>nc  appreciates 
Mr.  Hueffer's  prejudice  against  a  merely  for- 
mal symmetry,  and  that  the  poet  who  essays  it 
is  more  often  the  slave  than  the  inheritor  of 
tradition;    nevertheless   one   cannot    but    feel    on 

reading  this  poem  that  it  would  not  have  been 
emasculated  if  Mr.  Hueffer  had  availed  him- 
self of  the  legacy  left  by   Francis  Thompson, 

whose  odes  (and  Mr.  Hueffer's  poems  are  odic 
in  form)  exhibit  every  variety  in  length  of  line, 
ami.  while  reasonably  free  in  rhythm,  never  be- 
come so  lax  as  to  be  prose.  One  inevitably  com- 
pares this  poem  to  the  first  part  of  "Sister 
Songs,"  a  not  less  personal  poem  than  Mr. 
Hueffer's,  to  his  disadvantage. 

It  is  not  a  coincidence  that  the  loveliest  parts 
of  Mr.  Hueffer's  poems  do  not  stumble,  but 
sin"; — that  they  are  not  vera  libre;  for  poetry- 
is  not  "jolly."  that  is,  colloquial;  but  intense 
and   lyrical. 

That  Mr.  Hueffer  can  rise  altogether  above 
colloquial  impressioniam,  and  can  conjure  be- 
fore us  in  a  few  lines  a  vision  of  a  world  brood- 
ed upon  in  the  imagination,  is  amply  seen  in 
"A  Solis  Ortus  Cardine     .     .     ." 

No  doubt  Mr.  Hueffer  has  realised  his  inten- 
tions equally  in  all  the  poems  mentioned,  but 
one  wishes  that  his  intentions  had  more  often 
been  directed  towards  the  achievement  of 
beauty  as  well  as  vitality,  as  in  the  last  named 
poem:  the  former  need  not  exclude  the  latter. 

However,  at  least  mere  prettiness  has  been 
avoided ;  much  that  is  lovely  has  been  enshrin- 
ed:  far  more  lines  are  metrical  than  are  not; 
and  if  violence  has  sometimes  been  mistaken  for 
strength,  it  is  a  <rood  fault. 

The  Incapacities  of  Democracy 

The  incapacity  of  a  democratic  community 
for  acting  as  the  owner  of  a  complicated  piece 
of  business  mechanism  like  a  steam  railway  has 
never  been  more  vigorously  portrayed  than  by 
the  pseudonymous  author  of  "52  Questions  on 
the  Nationalization  of  Railways,"  a  booklet  of 
125  small  pages  bearing  the  signature  of  ' '  Fa- 
bius"  and  published  by  Dent,  Toronto.  It  is 
a  dramatic  statement,  with  appropriate  illustra- 
tions, of  the  doctrine  that  profit  and  advance- 
ment— more  money  or  more  power,  authority 
and  responsibility — are  the  sole  reliable  incen- 
tives for  getting  a  man's  best  work  out  of  him, 
and  that  where  there  is  no  definite  connection 

between  effort  and  this  kind  of  reward,  effort 
will  not  be  made.  A  recent  school  of  economists 
answer  this  doctrine  by  the  assertion  that  the 
motive  of  "service" — of  doing  good  to  others, 
or  to  the  commuuit.v — may  be  made  equally 
powerful,  and  that  Public  Ownership,  by  call- 
ing on  the  motive  of  service  and  eliminating 
the  selfish  motives,  will  get  the  very  best  that 
men  have  in  them.  It  is  an  interesting  contro- 
versy, but  the  side  of  Socialism  will  have  to 
work  hard  to  produce  as  clever  a  statement  of 
its  case  as  this  statement  of  the  side  of  Individ- 
ualism, of  the  Selfish  Motive  as  the  Mainspring 
of  Progress. 



April,  1919. 

God,  Conduct  and  Revelation 

By  J.  E.  WARD 

Adler,  Felix:  "An  Ethical  PhiK-ophy  of  Life."  Ap- 
pleton,   New  York,   $3. 

Sellars,  Roy  Wood,  Ph.D.:  "The  Next  Step  in  Re- 
ligion."     MacMillan,    Toronto.    $2. 

Bryant,  Dr.  Sophie:  "How  to  Read  the  Bible  in  the 
Twentieth    Century."      Dent,    Toronto,    $1.25. 

TO  weigh  life  and  to  explore  its  field  of 
action  and  reaction  is  ever  interesting. 
To  do  so  in  company  with  one  at  once  so 
reverently  frank  and  frankly  reverent  as 
Dr.  Adler  is  a  privilege  well  worth  while.  We 
can  but  have  deep  respect  for  one  who,  in  his 
own  words,  finding  his  Mosaic  religion  but 
truly  a  religious  mosaic,  feeling  his  faith  of  ex- 
perience to  have  outgrown  his  faith  of  youth, 
considered  it  but  honorable  to  pass  on  into  a 
fuller  quest. 

Such  a  mind  is  hardly  patient  of  the  idea  ot 
finality  in  religion,  whether  Hebrew  or  Chris- 
tian. In  both  these  faiths  Dr.  Adler  finds  him- 
self circumscribed  in  thought  and  in  experience. 
"The  monotheistic  idea  in  the  one  case,  and  the 
centralitv  of  the  figure  of  the  Christ  in  the 
other"  mark  for  him  the  limits  of  development 
or  change.  He,  with  many  another  religious 
pilgrim,  finds  a  deal  too  much  in  religious 
teaching  that  is  negative  and  circumscribed  to 
give  it  a  strong  ethical  content. 

Accepting,  as  a  principle,  the  aim  of  life  as 
being  "the  affirmation  of  our  ethical  per- 
sonality," of  our  spiritual  nature,  of  "that 
holy  thing  in  us  without  which  man  loses  his 
worth,"  with  all  reverence  for  the  "incompar- 
able Author"  of  the  Gospels,  he  fails  to  find 
therein  the  positive  need  for  the  present  com- 
plex demand  of  society.  He  is  quite  frankly 
opposed  to  the  thought  of  "a  faith  once  for 
all  delivered  to  the  saints." 

Nor  is  he  patient  of  the  Socialist  position. 
The  Socialist  is  for  Adler  a  sort  of  idealist 
without  an  ideal— a  man  who  lives  so  near  the 
mountain  that  he  loses  somewhat  of  the  vision 
of  the  far  travel  of  the  sun. 

From  a  scholarly  examination  of  the  position 
of  Kant,  in  which  there  is  much  of  value  for 
the  student  of  philosophy,  the  writer  passes 
on  to  an  intimately  practical  application  of  his 

He  places  Personality  at  the  centre  ot  his 
system  and  pleads  for  a  fuller  insistence  upon 
spiritual  values.  He  frankly  accepts  the  more 
sordid  facts  of  life  but  gives  even  the  prob- 
lem of  sin  and  evil  a  positive  content. 

For  Dr.  Adler,  the  supreme  ethical  rule 
would  be:  "Act  so  as  to  elicit  the  sense  of 
unique  distinctive  selfhood  as  interconnected 
with  all  other  distinctive  spiritual  beings  in 
the  infinite  universe."  His  central  idea  is 
"that  the  numen  in  the  self  is  raised  out  of 
potentiality  into  actuality  by  the  energy  put 

forth  to  raise  the  numen  in  the  other  .  .  the 
two  divinities  greeting  each  other  as  they  rise 
into  the  light."  Thus  his  plan  at  once  includes 
and  transcends  both  egoism  and  altruism.  He 
makes  them  minister  to  each  other  in  the  bring- 
ing about  of  a  higher  ideal — a  daring  con- 
ception indeed. 

Enough  has  been  said  to  lead  the  reader  to 
expect  much  of  worth  in  the  study  of  the  social 
relationships  of  life.  The  social  institution, 
the  family,  the  organ  of  education,  the  voca- 
tion, the  political  organization,  the  organiza- 
tion of  mankind  and  the  ideal  religious  society 
are  treated  in  a  progressive  series  each  bring- 
ing to  the  individual  a  fuller  development  of 
ethical  personality.  There  is  little  of  life's 
activity  that  Dr.  Adler  does  not  touch  or  does 
not  illumine.  In  the  sphere_  of  international 
society  the  very  "backward  peoples  of  the 
earth  are  the  paramount  object  of  reverence" 
calling  for  a  union  of  civilized  nations  "to 
accomplish  the  pedagogy  of  the  less  de- 

The  main  gain  from  his  system  would  seem 
to  be  the  transformation  of  the  strong  in- 
dividualistic trend  in  human  nature  into  a 
service  which  at  once  combines  the  features 
of  the  individual  and  social  claims  without 
denying  either.  He  seems  to  stand  in  a  un- 
ique position  in  thought  between  orthodox 
Christian  teaching  and  the  socialistic  outlook, 
and  brings  with  his  view  a  fuller  contribution 
in  the  way  of  solution  of  the  problem  of  dual- 
ism than  we  have  hitherto  met.  There  are 
those  who  will  take  issue  with  him  on  the 
ground  that  he  has  not  done  full  justice  to  the 
Christian  faith,  but  Dr.  Adler  is  presenting  a 
Philosophy  of  Life,  and  has  chosen  not  to 
draw  distinctions  between  what  might  be  call- 
ed pure  and  orthodox  Christianity.  Had  he 
done  so  it  may  be  that  he  would  have  found 
far  less  of  the  negative,  of  dualism,  of  trans- 
cendental outlook,  of  insistence  on  sin,  in  the 
mind  of  the  Nazarene  than  in  that  of  many  of 
his  professed  followers. 

When  an  author  sets  out  to  tell  us  the  Next 
Step  in  Keligion  and  takes  the  whole  of  our 
time  in  recounting  for  us  the  myths  of  "Meso- 
pot"  or  Patagonia,  what  shall  we  say?  We 
would  be  fair.  There  is  need  for  a  close 
examination  of  our  beliefs  in  the  light  of  mod- 
ern knowledge,  in  whatever  field.  There  is 
great  need  for  the  upbuilding  of  the  positive 
content  of  our  faith.  We  would  even  clasp 
the  critic's  hand  for  the  marvelous  labor  he 
lias  performed.  Yet  there  are  critics  and 
critics,  and  a  book  which  claims  to  give  a  sum- 
mary of  the  results  of  higher  criticism  must 
give  us  more  of  edification   than  a  trio  sung 

April,  1919. 

C  i.\  I/'/  I A    BOOKMAN 


in  a  minor  key    by    our    old    friends    Loisy, 
Pfleiderer  and  Gilbert  Murray. 

We  do  not  feel  thai  we  have  a  sure  guide 
when  we  find  the  author  using  a  <'<>mpass,  the 
worth  of  which  he  has  already  denied;  e.g., 
it  is  not  permissible  to  quite  the  authority  of 
Mark  when  Mark's  value  is  questioned.  Nor 
do  we  feel  sure  of  a  writer  who  speaks  of  the 
Christian  conception  of  Jesus  as  a  "master 
piece  of  lyricized  mythology,"  and  in  the  next 
breath  tells  us  that  the  success  of  Christian 
ity  was  due  to  its  "connection  with  a  noble 

The  fact  seems  to  be  that  Dr.  Sellars  writes 
more  fluently  than  he  thinks.  The  basic  be- 
liefs of  religion  must  stand  the  test  of  exam- 
ination as  those  of  any  other  phase  of  life. 
Christianity,  if  its  claims  be  true,  must  learn 
•to  welcome  such  examination  and  to  search 
even  farther  than  her  critics  would  force  her 
to  go.  But  examination  must  be  undertaken 
in  a  constructive  spirit  to  be  of  worth. 

Having  taken  fifteen  out  of  sixteen  of  the 
chapters  of  his  book  to  assure  us  that  all  our 
beliefs  are  pure  myth  (though  he  says  it  may 
be  "more  plausible  to  give  a  relative  credence" 
to  the  belief  that  such  a  person  as  Jesus  ever 
existed),  to  show  us  that  all  such  small  matters 
as  immortality,  personal  agency,  the  problem 
of  evil,  the  worth  of  anything  in  the  shape  of 
prayer,  or  the  reality  of  the  supernatural  are 
neither  here  nor  there,  we  wronder  that  Dr. 
Sellars  confesses  to  anv  difficulty  with  regard 

to  the  retention  of  the  use  of  the  word  're- 
ligion.'    One   may   be   fully   grateful  that  he 
has  not  questioned  such  a  dearly  divine  attn 
bute  as  a  sense  of  humor.     Mut  what  really  is 
"The  Next  Step*".... 

Religion  is  to  be  "human  and  social,"  a 
thing  "of  this  world,"  "without  a  supernat- 
ural," "concerned  with  virtues  and  values," 
and  "catholic  in  its  count  of  such."  Having 
gone  thus  far  in  justification  of  the  title  of 
his  book,  our  author  leaves  us  with  the  remark 
that  "Man's  soul  will  crave  <rracious  sur- 
roundings." We  had  thoughl  he  had  denied 
thai  he  had  a  soul.  Well,  well;  he  has  given 
us  much  of  generality,  much  of  contradiction 
and  evasion,  not  a  little  of  imagination  and 
questionable  assertion,  but  all  so  jauntily  writ- 
ten that— we  are  not  cross. 

Many  a  teacher  will  be  glad  to  have  Miss 
Bryant's  guidance  in  handling  the  material  of 
the  Bible  in  class  work.  Herein  the  theme  of 
the  Bible  is  regarded  as  the  progressive  revela- 
tion of  God  to  man  through  man,  culminating 
in  Christ,  God  and  Man.  The  study  of  the 
theme  is  approached  by  the  Gospel  narrative, 
followed  by  the  Apostolic  history  and  the 
spiritual  history  of  the  Hebrew.  A  course  of 
readings  from  the  Bible  and  other  books  is 

There  is  much  that  is  good  and  provocative 
of  thought  in  such  a  new  presentation — there 
would  be  gain  as  well  as  loss  in  its  acceptance 
en   bloc. 


By  J.  A.  DALE 


T    TREAD  again  the  ancient  way 
That  westward  burns, 
And  strike  again  the  ancient  clay 
A   new   race   turns : 
The  shadow  of  an  ancient  day 
Once  more  returns. 

In  my  heart  there  wakes  again 

From  out  the  deep 
The  spirit  of  forgotten  men 

Who  agelong  sleep 
Far  beyond  our  tiny  ken 

Their  gains  who  keep. 


Prometheus,  whose  auspicious  fire 

Unsought  began 
The  conquest  which  his  sons  lift  higher 

As  each  one  can — 
He  made  us  heirs  of  earth's  empire, 

Maker  of  Man! 

He  never  soared  on  splendid  wings 

Rifling  the   skies — 
In  labour's  vague  imaginings 

He  lit  tired  eyes, 
And  slowly  mid  transfigured  things 

Let  bent  backs  rise. 


For  us  with  mighty  thews  they  strove 

A  space  to  win, 
And   paths   through  sightless  forest  drove, 

Let  sunlight  in : 
With  pain  the  clod,  the  rock  they  clove, 

For   undreamt   kin. 

Yet  they  too  watched  as  from  the  ground 

The  lark  uprose, 
And  children  met  them  homeward  bound 

At  the  long  day('s  close, 
And  at  their  feet  in  gloom  they  found 

The  waiting  rose. 



April,  1919. 

The  Author  of  "Sonia" 

By  J.  E.  WARD 

IN  those  far  days  before  the  war,  when 
one  could  peacefully  wander  over  the 
Berkshire  fields,  it  was  good  to  stray 
from  the  beaten  track  in  search  of  some  na- 
ture's secret  and  incidentally  sense  the  good 
English  sunlight.  For  England  has  her  sun 
in  spite  of  much  maligning — a  mellow,  caress- 
ing sun. 

Thus  employed,  or  unemployed,  it  was  that 
I  remember  first  chatting  with  the  future 
author  of  'Sonia" — I,  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
land;  he — well,  I  doubt  whether  Stephen 
MeKenna  would  ever  be  a  stranger  in  any 

Well,  could  I  picture  now  the  probable  cir- 
cumstances of  his  day.  London  had  claimed 
him  these  few  days  past,  as  London  will.  A 
short  run  down  on  the  evening  express  had 
found  him  ensconced  at  Twyford  in  the  pa- 
ternal car  ready  for  a  three-mile  country  run 
— and  ready  for  dinner,  in  the  old  oak-beamed 
and  broad  hearthed  dining  room. 

So  some  music  and  then  to  bed — no,  the 
family  would  go  to  bed — not  so  Stephen. 
Long  past  the  time  when  a  peaceful  country- 
side had  settled  in  to  rest — long  after  the 
church  clock  at  the  crossroads  had  struck 
the  midnight  hour,  " Sonia 's"  creator  might 
be  counted  on  in  smoking  jacket  somewhere 
beneath  that  gabled  roof  drinking  deep  of 
the  wealth  of  England's  storied  lore.  He 
would  read  everything  and  marvellously  re- 
membered it.  Then  sometime  between  mid- 
night and  dawn  one  may  presume  that  Stephen 
may  have  gone  to  bed.  No-one  seems  ever  to 
have  caught  him  at  it. 

Nor  was  he  ever  to  be  seen  at  the  break- 
fast hour.  Fond  noon  would  rouse  him,  or 
tempt  him  forth — what  should  lesser  mortals 
know  of  his  rising.  And  the  afternoon  sun 
would  company  with  him  over  the  fields. 
The  acme  of  lazy  leisure,  you  would  say.  Yet, 
though  Stephen's  clock  seemed  to  have  been 
wound  some  hours  overlate,  one  could  not 
say  that  there  was  not  deep  profit  for  him  in 
its  winding.  He  gained  men's  richest  in 
companionship;  he  stored  up  hours  of  quiet 
in  the  early  night;  and  stowed  himself  away 
when  least  there  was  to  lose  in  the  English 

This  was  the  Stephen,  in  Norfolk  greys, 
that  now  was  chatting  with  me  jauntily,  as 
only  Stephen  could. 

Far  hidden  among  a  group  of  stalwart 
Berkshire  trees,  the  curling  smoke  marked 
where  a  gabled  home  housed  his  father's 

Many  a  day's  gratitude  has  there  been  in 
the  writer's  heart  for  hours  spent  beneath 
those   warm    red    tiles.      There   was   no   board 

throughout  the  countryside  more  lavish. 
There  was  no  hearthside  talk  more  full  of 
wit  than  that  where  gathered  a  small  family 
circle  trained  from  childhood  days  in  a  keen 
environment  charged  with  active  interest  in 
the  social  and  political  life  of  their  great 

The  name  of  MeKenna  is  a  name  that  has 
placed  its  mark  upon  English  life.  It  is  a 
name  that  will  still  be  known  wThere  English 
politics  hold  keen  sway. 

And  now  it  finds  its  way  in  Literature — 
for  "Sonia"  will  live  perhaps  as  few  of  our 
war  novels  .  It  is  more  than  a  mere  war 
novel — a  strong,  deep  record  in  fiction's  name 
of  those  great  days  when  England's  bridge 
of   destiny   needs  must   be    crossed. 

A  delightful  environment  it  was  —  this 
country  home  called  "Honeys" — for  any  au- 
thor's youth,  and  " Sonia V  early  pages 
breathe  full  of  it.  A  fond  younger  son  writes 
fluently  of  that  easy-going  leisured  life 
which  was  his  before  the  war.  And  insofar 
as  he  writes  thus,  he  writes,  in  a  sense,  class 

There,  one  remembers  him,  the  youngest 
born  of  a  fond  little  gray-haired  kindly  lady; 
the  pride  of  a  most  astute  old  gentlemanly 
Pater;  debonair,  full  of  youth's  joy  in  enter- 
ing intb  his  own. 

There  in  those  old  timbered  comfort-laden 
rooms  he  was  the  typical  .young  graduate  of 
"the  House,"  quite  consciously  content  in 
the  knowledge  of  his  gift.  Slight  of  build. 
always  immaculate,  ever  keen,  palpably  well 
kept  and  ably  groomed,  at  times  with  a  tinge 
of  youthful  cynicism  in  his  outlook,  yet  kind- 
ly so.     And  now  he  has  grown  up. 

If  you  don't  believe  it,  read  "The  Reluc- 
tant Lover,"  and  then  read  "Sonia."  They 
are  the  products  of  the  heart  and  mind  of 
the  two  worlds  of  which  he  speaks. 

The  gay,  carefree  tramper  of  the  country 
lanes  in  well-spun  Norfolks  we  hope  will 
never  go.  Yet  knowledge  may  pass  to  wis- 
dom,  and  not  lose  its  joy. 

The  Stephen  of  "Peckwater  Quad"  and 
Berkshiredom  is  now,  we  feel,  more  the  deni- 
zon  of  old  London's  clubs,  and  politico- 
social  rendezvous.  He  is  even  about  to  take 
unto  himself  a  wife  from  the  late  Premier's 

Bless  the  lad — too  many  of  his  class  have 
gone  and  left  our  literature  poorer.  It  is 
good  to  feel  that  some  there  are  still  left  to 
wield  a  ready  pen. 

Can  he  write  another  Sonia?  It  is  a  tale 
not  easily  twice  told,  yet  mayhap  we  shall 
see.  He  is  but  at  the  threshold  of  life's  broad 

April.   1919. 

Canadian  boos,  i/i  \ 

Notes  of  New  Books 


Florence  Howe  Ball,  daughter  of  Julia  Ward 
Howe,  das  ready  "Memories  Grave  and  Gay," 

which  will  contain  many  reminiscences  of 
leading  American  and  European  literary  cele- 

There  are  more  authors  per  capita,  if  not 
per  acre,  in  British  Columbia  than  in  any 
other  Canadian  Province.  In  the  mild  climate 
of  the  Pacific  Coast  it  is  comparatively  easy  to 
keep  warm  in  a  garret,  and  the  ink  does  not 

One  of  the  best  of  recent  books  for  students 
of  journalism,  though  it  does  not  purport  to  be 
a  textbook,  is  Frank  M.  O'Brien's  "Story  of 
the  Sun,"  which  explains  in  full  detail  how 
cleverness  and  human  sympathy  in  the  treat- 
ment of  news  built  up  a  great  New  York  news- 
paper property  out  of  literally  nothing. 

Though  1918  has  been  very  short  of  biogra- 
phies in  England,  it  has,  perhaps  for  that  rea- 
son, been  very  full  of  them  in  the  United 
States.  The  immensely  enhanced  sense  of  na- 
tional self-respect  that  followed  the  entry  and 
effective  work  of  the  United  States  into  the 
great  war  was  a  stimulus  to  American  bio- 
graphy and  history.  The  cleverest,  if  not  the 
most  important,  biography  of  the  year  is 
probably  "The  Education  of  Henry  Adams." 

"Old  Days  on  the  Farm,"  by  A.  C.  Wood, 
is  a  modest  literary  effort,  not  without  a  dis- 
tinct flavour  of  its  own — the  charm  that  conn 
try  roads,  wayside  flowers  and  fragrant  fields 
have  for  the  town-dweller,  and  that  a  really 
heart-felt  appreciation  of  the  farm  has  for 
the  country-born.  Mr.  Wood's  Pegasus  is  a 
gently  ambling,  bucolic  steed,  which  stops  to 
browse  on  every  fence  corner,  munch  an  apple 
from  every  orchard,  and  listen  to  the  farmers 
swapping  yarns  at  every  cross-road.  The 
excellent  photographic  studies  of  farm  scenes 
add  greatly  to  the  appearance  of  the  volume. 
(McClelland,  Goodchild  &  Stewart,  Toronto, 

The  reader  who  buvs  "The  White  Rook,"  by 
J.  B.  Harris-Burland  (Gundy,  Toronto,  $1.50) 
to  increase  his  knowledge  of  the  habits  of  the 
feathered  folk,  may  suffer  some  disappointment 
in  finding  that  he  has  secured  "a  crow  of  quite 
another  colour" — a  very  readable  book  turn- 
ing on  the  mutual  fascination  of  the  study  of 
chess  for  a  retired  medical  specialist  and  explor- 
er with  a  young  and  unappreciated  second  wife, 
the  army  officer  whom  she  jilted,  and  a  Chin- 
ese spy.  The  latter  possesses  a  secret  drug 
that  paralyses  the  will-power  of  the  absorber,  an 
undying  spirit  of  revenge  against  the  doctor, 
and  a  qualified  admiration  for  the  military 
man,  and  the  complications  that  arise  from  these 
motives  will  hold  the  attention  during  the  read- 
ing even  if  they  do  not  remain  in  the  memory 

There  is  a   boom   in   translations  or  fiction, 

and    plays    from    the    Spanish,    a    circumstance 
Which   is  hard  to  explain   in   view  of  the  seal 

ly  glorious  pari  played  by  thai  country  in  the 

war,  but   may  be  due  to  the  intrinsic  merit  and 
activity  of  the  Spanish   writers  „f  the  day. 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  Canada  has  long 
possessed  a  novelist  bearing  the  name  of  F 
Clifford  Smith,  author  of  several  popular 
works,  it  seems  sad  that  England  should  now 
come  along  with  a  new  writer  calling  himself 
Clifford  Smyth.  Is  this  not  a  colorable  imi- 

A  volume  calculated  to  stimulate  thought  in 
those  who  are  capable  of  envisaging  a  rather 
violently  novel  idea  is  "The  Abolition  of  In- 
heritance" by  Harlan  Eugene  Read  (Macmil- 
lan,  $1.50).  Professor  Read  declares  that  the 
right  to  inherit  property  is  no  more  sacred 
than  the  right  to  inherit  authority;  but  he 
does  not  ask  that  we  abolish  inheritance  alto- 
gether and  immediately.  A  limit  of  $100,000 
seems  to  him  reasonable. 

"Kiddies,"  by  J.  J.  Bell  (Copp,  Clark  Co., 
Toronto.  $1.50),  is  a  collection  of  short  stories 
about  children  in  the  now  well-khown  "Wee 
Macgregor"  manner.  A  certain  monotony  of 
flavor,  as  of  a  surfeit  of  butterscotch,  may  be 
perceived  if  one  reads  them  all  together.  The 
children  are  all  so  cute,  and  the  parents  so 
stodgy  and  unimaginative  and  uncomprehend- 
ing; and  then  something  happens  and  a  great 
light  dawns  on  the  parents  and  all  is  lovely. 
But  taken  in  mild  doses  these  "Kiddie"  stor- 
ies will  be  found  entertaining,  and  may  help 
some  of  us  grown-ups  to  remember  what  we 
were  like  when  we  were  young,  and  conse- 
quently to  be  kinder  to  the  juveniles  of  to-day. 

There  is  one  thing  you  may  always  unhesi- 
tatingly prognosticate  about  Kathleen  Norris's 
books,  and  that  is  that  you  may  safely  place 
them  in  the  hands  of  the  youngest  of  young 
persons.  They  are  so  sweetly  pretty,  don't  you 
know,  that  even  though,  as  in  the  case  of 
"Josselyn's  Wife,"  the  hero  does  fall  in  love 
with  his  own  stepmother,  and  is  cast  into  jail 
for  the  suspected  murder  of  his  own  father, 
you  feel  satisfyingly  sure  that  virtue  will  be 
triumphant  and  sin  will  be  followed  by  retri- 
bution, as  in  this  case,  when  the  hero  acquires 
tuberculosis  during  his  stay  in  prison.  The 
heroine  is  always  so  perfectly  lovely,  both  in 
face  and  character,  and  the  "bad  woman"  is 
always  so  vampirish,  and  so  sure  of  being  pun- 
ished, that  you  feel  just  as  if  you  were  read- 
ing a  grown-up  "Elsie"  Book.  Mrs.  Norris 
has  a  host  of  devoted  admirers  who  "just 
love"  her  books,  and  one  feels  sure  that 
they  will  fairly  "eat  up"  "Josselyn's  Wife," 
(Briggs,  Toronto). 



April,  1919. 

"The  Tin  Soldier"  is  a  novel  by  Temple  Bailey 
(Copp,  Clark  &  Co.,  Toronto,  $1.50.)  Because 
his  dad — the  old  General — was  in  the  habit  of 
indulging  in  occasional  bacchanalian  bouts, 
dear  Derry  Drake  was  unable  to  obey  his  coun- 
try's call  and  don  the  khaki  of  the  American 
Expeditionary  Force.  The  General's  failings, 
and  a  sacred  promise  to  his  dead  mother  never 
to  leave  the  wayward  papa,  kept  Derry  in  the 
ranks  of  the  healthy  slackers,  much  to  Derry 's 
discomfiture.  There  are  some  women  charac- 
ters in  the  story,  which  has  its  locale  in  Wash- 
ington and  the  society  of  the  idle  rich.  Really, 
the  story  was  so  uninteresting  that  it  was  quite 
an  effort  to  read  it.  Plot  and  "pep"  are  both 
lacking,  and  we  cannot  predict  for  "The  Tin 
Soldier"  any  lasting  place  among  the  play- 
things of  literary  humanity. 

It  all  took  place  in  "The  Room  With  the 
Tassels."  The  tassels  shook  mysteriously. 
There  was  an  aroma  of  prussic  acid,  although 
the  murder  for  which  the  room  was  historic 
had  been  performed  (with  that  pleasant  poi- 
son) fifty  years  before.  The  spectre  of  the 
murderess  walked  into  the  room  through  a 
locked  door  at  midnight,  and  blew  out  the 
candles  of  the  unfortunate  ghost-hunter  who 
happened  to  be  sleeping  there.  Other  things, 
equally  eerie,  happened.  And  there  is  a  rea- 
sonable explanation  of  the  whole  spine-chilling 
yarn.  Carolyn  Wells  tells  it,  and  it  is  a  thriller. 
Some  people  will  wish  that  she  had  spent  the 
time  on  those  nonsense  verses  which  she  does 
to  such  perfection.  Others  will  wonder  how  on 
earth  a  woman  who  can  write  ghost  yarns  like 
this  can  waste  her  time  on  nonsense  verses. 
(McClelland,  Goodchild  &  Stewart,  Toronto, 

"White  Man,"  by  George  Agnew  Chamber- 
lain (McLeod,  Toronto,  $1.75).  We  presume 
that  the  moving-picture  rights  were  much  more 
constantly  in  the  mind  of  the  author  of  this 
tale  than  any  mere  literary  ambitions.  It  is 
necessary  now-a-days  for  a  good  moving-pic- 
ture that  the  hero  and  the  heroine  should  be, 
as  the  slip-cover  of  "White  Man"  puts  it, 
"forced  together  by  circumstances  to  live  in 
the  heart  of  the  African  jungle"  (or  on  a  desert 
island,  or  in  the  coldest  part  of  Alaska,  or  on 
an  inaccessible  peak  of  the  Rockies,  or  at  the 
bottom  of  an  abandoned  mine — anywhere  so 
long  as  they  are  not  restricted  by  the  pro- 
prieties), and  that  while  keeping  constantly 
in  the  minds  of  themselves  and  their  readers 
or  audience  the  naughty  things  that  they 
might  be  doing,  they  should  rigorously  persist 
in  not  doing  them.  Mr.  Chamberlain's  novel 
fills  all  these  essential  requirements,  and  adds 
much  good  screen  material  in  the  shape  of 
aeroplanes,  elephants,  African  kraals,  hunting 
parties,  and  lots  of  diminuendo  changes  of 
dress  for  the  heroine.  Presumably  Miss  Mar- 
guerite Clark  w  ill  play  the  heroine;  any  screen 
actor  with  a  g  ood  chest  and  an  honest  face 
can  do  "White    Man," 

"Sinister  House,"  by  Leland  Hall  (Thomas 
Allen,  Toronto,  $1.50),  is  a  tour-de-force  of 
technical  dexterity  in  ghostliness,  by  a  new 
author.  The  slightest  indication  of  the  clue 
to  the  mystery  would  impair  much  of  the  read- 
er's enjoyment.  It  must  therefore  be  merely 
recorded  that  this  is  (to  the  best  of  our  be- 
lief) the  first  ghost  story  in  which  a  Ford  car 
has  ever  played  conspicuous  part,  that  it  is 
a  story  which  the  most  hardened  reader  will 
find  it  impossible  to  lay  down,  and  that  its 
moral  tone  is  unexceptionable.  It  is  a  person 
who  is  "haunted"  by  ghosts,  not  a  place,  and 
as  soon  as  he  can  nerve  himself  to  confess  to 
his  wife  the  very  excusable  wrong-doing  in 
his  past  life,  which  gives  them  their  power 
over  him,  they  are  baffled  and  depart.  But 
there,  we  promised  not  to  give  so  much  as  a 
hint.  Unlike  most  ghost  stories,  this  one  has 
several  characters  which  are  very  human  and 

Childhood's  shuddering  delight  in  ghost 
stories  is  scarcely  dead,  even  at  seventy,  and 
Amelie  Rives'  "The  Ghost  Garden,"  is  such 
an  engaging,  not  to  say  charming  nightmare 
that  it  should  find  rapid  sale  among  those 
who  love  to  be  made  to  quake  comfortably  by 
the  fire-side.  The  Princess  Troubetzkoy  (Ame- 
lie Rives)  takes  one's  imagination  gently  by 
the  hand  and  leads  it  to  a  beautiful  deserted 
mansion  where  a  pretty  lady  had  died  in  a 
tantrum  some  years  before.  Creeps  abound  on 
every  page  from  page  13  to  the  end.  The 
ghost  is  intricately  connected  with  the  love  af- 
fair on  which  the  story  is  threaded,  and  is  by 
far  the  most  interesting  person  in  the  book 
The  whole  matter  is  sweetened — perhaps  a 
trifle  too  much — with  love-making  of  the  kind 
approved  by  disappointed  widows  and  poetic 
spinsters ;  and  scented  faintly  with  spiritualist 
notions.  The  interest  is  sustained  and  the 
ending  satisfying.  (S.  B.  Gundy,  Toronto, 

Red-headed  Irish  orphans,  female  and  eigh- 
teen, should  not  be  willed  to  the  guardianship 
of  boyish  American  lawyers  with  proud  but 
passionate  natures.  That  it  can  be  done  with- 
out scandal  is  apparently  proven  by  H.  DeVere 
Stacpoole  in  a  novel  entitled  "The  Ghost  Girl," 
but  Mr.  Stacpoole  has  proven  many  a  more 
interesting  contention.  The  play,  "Peg  0'  My 
Heart,"  once  so  popular,  was  the  first  of  this 
new  style  in  heroines  and,  one  might  have 
hoped,  the  last.  But  Mr.  Stacpoole  has  appar- 
ently dragged  Peg  back  out  of  the  happy  mar- 
riage another  writer  framed  for  her,  made 
her  his  own,  dubbed  her  "Phyl."  and  clamped 
her  between  the  covers  of  his  book  with  a 
view  to  captivating  us  all  over  again.  The 
story  is  readable  and  has  the  conventional 
flourish  of  joy  at  the  end.  From  any  other 
author  it  might  be  called  fair  light  reading. 
But  from  Stacpoole  it  is  disappointing.  "The 
Blue  Lagoon"  was  of  another  order  of  magni- 
tude altogether.     (S.  B.  Gundy,  Toronto,  $1.50.) 

April,  I9ld. 

'   i  \ADIAN  bookman 


Kipling's  ".Jungle  Hook"  has  passed  its  fif 
tieth  edition  in  the  United  States,  and  lias  the 
steady  sale  of  a  classic — which  it  is. 

Very  slight  domestic  matters  (if,  indeed  any 
domestic  matters  are  slight  to  the  poet  who 
truly,  and  Englishman-wise,  loves  his  home) 
are  the  theme  of  the  versifications  of  R.  C. 
Lehmann  in  "The  Vagabond"  (Dent,  Toronto, 
$1.25),  all  but  two  of  which  an'  extracted  from 
recent  issues  of  Punch.  A  robin  that  wanders 
into  a  bedroom,  a  tortoise-shell  eat  which  is  al- 
leged by-  the  children  to  be  a  dragon,  the  mis- 
behavior of  a  Pekinese — such  are  the  topics 
touched  by  Mr.  Lehmann 's  wonderfully  light 
and  dexterous  hand.  But  somehow  they  look- 
ed more  at  home  in  Punch  than  in  a  volume, 
even  a  dear  little  120-page  volume  like  this. 

The  Musson  Book  Company,  Limited,  have 
commenced  the  publication  of  what  is  an- 
nounced to  be  the  complete  works  of  Am- 
brose Bierce,  the  American  market  being 
looked  after  in  the  same  way  by  Boni  &  Live- 
right.  The  reputation  of  this  very  distin- 
guished American  writer  has  been  steadily  on 
the  rise  for  the  last  ten  years,  a  movement 
probably  due  in  no  small  degree  to  the  dis- 
cerning estimate  of  him  given  by  the  late  Per- 
cival  Pollard,  in  his  brilliant  volume  of  criti- 
cism, "Their  Day  in  Court"  —  an  estimate 
which  might  well  be  reprinted  as  preface  to 
one  of  the  forthcoming  volumes.  The  first 
and  only  volume  issued  up  to  the  present  is 
"In  the  Midst  of  Life,"  formerly  known  on 
this  continent  as  "Tales  of  Soldiers  and 
Civilians,"  an  example  of  the  macabre  and 
grizzly  short  story,  which  is  certainly  un- 
rivalled outside  of  Edgar  Allen  Poe.  It  is  not 
Bierce 's  best  work,  but  it  is  the  best  book  for 
drawing  public  attention  to  his  work.  (Mus- 
son, Toronto,  $1.50.) 

"Cap'n  Jonah's  Fortune,"  by  James  A. 
Cooper,  is  an  interesting  little  story  of  some 
quaint  'longshore  folk,  told  in  the  simple  pleas- 
ing manner  of  Mr.  Cooper's  previous  tales  of 
Cape  Cod.  Little  Pearly  Holden,  the  heroine 
of  the  book,  is  "articled  out"  to  Orrin  and 
Sarah  Petty  of  the  Shell  Road,  Card- 
haven.  She  lives  the  life  of  the  drudge  with 
these  distant  relatives  of  her  dead  mother,  un- 
til the  arrival  at  the  "Orrin  Petty 's  place"  of 
Cap'n  Jonah  Hand.  The  old  sea  captain,  tired 
of  life  on  the  briny  deep,  has  come  to  Cardhav- 
en  to  end  his  days  and  nurse  his  rheumatism  in 
the  home  of  "Niece  Sarah."  The  harsh  treat- 
ment which  poor  Pearly  receives  soon  arouses 
his  indignation,  and  by  means  of  an  imaginary 
fortune  he  manages  to  pla.v  fairy  godmother  to 
Pearly's  Cinderella.  Through  the  medium  of 
some  "ile  shares"  long  considered  worthless, 
the  imaginary  fortune  conveniently  becomes  a 
real  one,  and  little  Pearly  and  the  ' '  city  feller ' ' 
in  the  tortoishell  glasses,  who  "teaches  fish 
to  hatch  their  aigs"  end  under  the  mistletoe. 
(Briggs,  Toronto,  $1.50.) 

"The  Marne,"  bj  Edith  Wharton  (Appleton, 
N  5T.,  $1.25).  Taken  as  a  whole  this  is  a 
slight  ami  inconsequential  sketch  of  a  subject 
of  which  Canadians  are  becoming  not  a  little 
fatigued,  namely  the  "regeneration"  of  the 
Tinted  States  by  its  war  effort.  But  when 
Mrs,  Wharton  is  satirising  the  pre-war  Amer- 
ican- .she  is  in  her  element.  Delirious  indeed 
is  Binde  Waslick,  the  girl  from  the  Middle 
West,  who  in  1917  wanted  "to  organize  an 
<  lid  Home  Week  just  like  ours,  all  over  France, 
from  Barver  righl  down  to  Marseilles.  And  all 
through  the  devastated  regions  too." 

It  would  require  a  surly  spirit  indeed  not  to 
enjoy  "The  Caravan  Man,"  a  novel  by  one 
who  is  apparently  a  new  author,  but  one  who 
possesses  the  essential  faculty  of  being  amus- 
ing by  evident  gift  of  nature.  Ernest  Good- 
win, the  author,  has  been  justly  upbraided  for 
that  his  best  female  character  disappears  from 
sight  on  page  44,  never  to  reappear  save  as 
the  merest  goddess  of  the  machine  at  the  very 
instant  of  the  tale's  conclusion.  For  our- 
selves we  refiise  to  weep  for  her;  we  are  con- 
vinced that  Mr.  G-oodwin  is  saving  her  for 
another  novel.  And  it  would  have  been  a 
strain  on  even  a  veteran  author  to  keep  up 
the  conversation  between  her  and  the  artist- 
hero  on  the  level  of  joyous  insouciance  set  by 
the  opening  chapters.  What  matter  it  that  the 
life  of  a  painter  of  the  nude  is  seldom  really 
as  adventurous  as  it  is  here  represented  T  The 
public  must  be  permitted  to  imagine  romance 
in  some  quarter  or  other  of  the  body  politic, 
and  where  can  it  be  if  not  in  that  which  is 
dignified  by  the  title  of  Latin*  A  twittering 
tale  of  youth  and  beauty  and  the  outdoor  life, 
wthout  a  trammel  of  realism.  (Thomas  Al- 
len, Toronto,  $1.50.) 

"The  War  Eagle,"  by  W.  J.  Dawson  (Dent, 
Toronto,  $1.50),  is  another  novel  of  the 
psychological  changes  effected  by  the  war.  Its 
author,  who  is  well  known  in  Canada  as  an 
eloquent  preacher  and  speaker  at  Canadian 
Club  luncheons  and  the  like,  has  recently  ac- 
quired a  farm  in  British  Columbia,  and  his 
pictures  of  pre-war  life  among  the  fruit- 
ranches  of  the  Kootenay  Valley  is  vivid  and 
charming.  "When  the  war  gets  going  the  hero, 
a  novelist,  removes  to  New  York,  and  has  some 
interesting  passages  with  his  publisher,  a  char- 
acter whom  one  suspects  of  being  portrayed 
from  life.  The  heroine,  the  daughter  of  a  war- 
contract  millionaire,  also  turns  up  in  New 
York,  and  we  see  the  process  of  the  rubbing 
off  of  surface  frivolities,  and  the  revelation 
of  the  real  quality  of  the  woman  underneath, 
which  has  formed  the  subject  of  rather  num- 
erous novels  lately.  The  millionaire  and  the 
publisher  get  drowned  on  the  Lusitania  and 
the  hero  and  the  heroine  eventually  go  to  war 
and  learn  to  love  one-another  unselfishly  and 
nobly.  Mr.  Dawson  is  very  much  in  earnest 
about  it  all,  and  the  book  will  be  widely 



April.  19-lS. 

Hergesheimer's  "  Java  Head  " 

IN  our  last  issue  we  drew  attention  to  the 
fact  that  the  United  States  can  now 
boast  of  the  possession  of  an  entirely 
modern  novelist,  who  has  in  high  degree 
the  quality  or  qualities  of  distinction  in  idea 
and  in  expression.  "Java  Head,"  the  latest 
book  by  Joseph  Hergesheimer,  whose  "Three 
Black  Pennys"  was  reviewed  in  the  January 
number,  is  in  one  respect  inferior  to  its  pre- 
decessor. Mr.  Hergesheimer  is  not  strong  on 
construction.  He  does  not  see  a  novel  whole, 
in  all  its  complicated  ramifications,  when  he 
starts  to  write,  and  pursue  a  definite  if  devious 
path  to  an  assured  end.  In  the  "Pennys"  this 
did  not  greatly  matter,  for  the  book  was  avow- 
edly a  succession  of  episodes,  related  only  by 
heredity  and  comparison.  But  in  "Java  Head 
Mr.  Hergesheimer  has  undertaken  to  fill  up  250 
pages  with  one  story,  and  to  do  so  he  has  had 
to  introduce  minor  episodes  which  have  the 
stuck-on  appearance  of  unrelated  ornament. 
Thus  the  episode — astonishingly  clever  in  itself 
— of  Roger  Brevard,  the  middle-aged  lover,  and 
Sidall  Ammidon,  his  school-girl  beloved,  facing 
her  coldly  contemptuous  parents,  the  girl  eager 
to  make  a  stand  for  her  freedom  and  her  love, 
but  the  man  struck  dumb  by  the  sense  of  his 
own  inadequacy  —  this  episode,  on  which  the 
book  practically  closes,  seems  to  have  absolute- 
ly no  relation  with  the  general  theme,  and  pro- 
duces the  effect  of  a  violent  change  of  key  too 
near  to  the  end  of  the  piece.    We  may  be  wrong 

in  this;  there  may  be  a  subtle,  tonal  relation- 
ship, which  will  become  more  apparent  as  we 
grow  more  familiar  with  the  workings  of  Mr. 
Hergesheimer's  mind.  In  any  case  we  do  not 
advance  it  as  an  important  defect ;  structure  is 
not  a  highly-regarded  element  in  the  modern